Why Me?
by Authoressinhiding
Summary: [complete]Candorien never expected to return to Middleearth. Now she finds herself in Mirkwood and up to her neck in intrigue, romance, and, of course, saving Legolas from the wiles of MEKESSG. Formerly Back Again.
1. Reunited with an Enemy

**Disclaimer: If you recognize it, chances are it belongs to Tolkien. If you don't, chances are it came from me.**

**Author's Note: This story is a sequel to "Not My Perfect Day", so if you haven't read that one, go read it. NOW.**

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I once had an adventure in that place known as Middle-earth and found it quite pleasant. Upon returning home, I was, as is proper, sad, but I never expected to return. Though I wished to go back with all my heart, I knew that I was quite lucky to have been to Middle-earth even one time, and I shouldn't expect another trip. I still wanted one, though. My return from Middle-earth had caused quite a stir – unbeknownst to me, I had been in a coma for the past six months – which was not a happy welcome-back-present at all, let me tell you. My entire summer was spent catching up on schoolwork. Also not fun. My summer aside, it was with absolute – though rather sad – confidence that I felt I would get over it in time.

The day before school was to start, I found myself walking home from a friend's house. My entire body was slumped, my hands jammed in my pockets, my head bent to stare at the ground. Loud, uncomfortable thoughts swirled through my head, the ones I had had every year before school as far back as I could remember. They were even worse this year because of the coma. I had no desire to be made fun of, and although I had completely caught up with my class – and done so with flying colors, may I add - somebody was still probably going to make cracks.

I touched my necklace nervously. It was a gold chain with a horse charm, the horse life-like and complete with tiny sapphire eyes. Of all I had gained – and lost – in Middle-earth, this necklace was most precious to me, for it had been given to me by Arwen and Aragorn – though I hadn't known at the time. I wore the necklace practically everywhere. It had become my good luck charm.

As I scuffed my worn sneakers along the concrete road, I was thinking of the nothing but the next day's events. Still, I immediately noticed when the hard gravel beneath my feet turned to springy turf. For one thing, my step changed. I was moving softly, and my strides lengthened. I automatically lifted my head and took a deep, clean breath. I looked around carefully. The dark trees of a forbidding-looking forest met my eyes.

_Mirkwood, _my mind informed me.

_Eryn Lasgalen, _I corrected.

_Greenwood the Great, _it countered.

Realizing I couldn't win an argument with myself like this, I set to checking inventory. I had sneakers, socks, jeans, a PotC T-shirt, hoodie, and, of course, underclothing. Besides these privations, I had a movie ticket stub and a blue raspberry jolly rancher. But these lasted only for a moment. In an instant, they vanished and were replaced by my things from my last visit – the things that had usually lain folded inside a trunk in my closet. A grin slid across my face as I felt all the familiar weights. My flute was slung casually across my back beside my quiver and annoyingly complex longbow. My sword and dagger hung sheathed from my belt. Quite comfortably, too, I might add. But I missed the jolly rancher. Softly, I pulled a leather thong from my belt pouch and tied my dirty blond mane back. Tossing my head, I looked around again.

Suddenly, I spotted a limp form tied to a tree a few yards away. Without a second thought, I ran towards it. If someone was in trouble…

As I got closer, I began to recognize the person. Well did I know that glimmering red hair, that perfectly curved body.

"MEKESSG?" I whispered under my breath, shocked and not entirely happy – okay, about to sink into the earth with despair – at the sight of her.

She didn't stir, just leaned against the tree looking lovely and hurt.

"MEKESSG?" I said a bit louder.

Still no reply or movement, save a faint rise and fall of her (overly large) chest to show she was breathing. If only she wasn't… But she was, and it now looked as if I was going to have to go the whole way.

"Mary Elizabeth Katrina Ellen Sara Susana Greenhow!" I yelled.

She woke. First one sparkling emerald eye came open and then the other. She blinked twice and stared at me as I watched her cautiously, one hand on the hilt of my sword.

"Candy," she said at last in a lazy voice. "Dearest, do move. You are ruining my plan."

Kraznocks. It was _her_. And she had just called me Candy.

"What plan?" I asked with a sigh, moving over and sitting down at the foot of a behemoth maple.

"My plan to find Leggiekins, of course," she answered sweetly.

Sigh. "Why don't you just take the Forest Road? It'd be a whole lot easier."

"Because I don't need to, that's why," she snapped.

Another sigh. "Okay, whatever. Just try to leave me out of it, I beg."

Why was it that every time I got into Middle-earth _she _was there? It was like the Pevensies and Jadis, only different, I guess. And why hadn't she taken the Forest Road? Did the great MEKESSG not have a map? Unlikely. Was she lost? Unlikier still. Both were hilarious ideas to consider, though, and so I did for some time.

I was called from my pensive states by a crackle in the foliage behind me. Immediately, I sprang to my feet and whirled, hand on my sword hilt again. There, standing inches behind where I'd been seconds earlier was a group of elves. Boy had I forgotten how gorgeous they were! They stared at me suspiciously, eyes narrowed as they moved from me to MEKESSG and back to me. It looked as if they suspected me of doing something terrible to her. A stupid assumption, if I may be so bold. No one in their right mind would think I could have overpowered MEKESSSG. She's got that whole Xena-Warrior-princess thing going for her, and well, I just don't. The only thing threatening about me is my eyes, which can deliver glares of special magnificence. Oh, and I could use my sword somewhat well … but the elves didn't know that.

"Mornin'," I finally said, taking my hand off my sword and forcing my body to appear relaxed. "Or is it afternoon? Never can be sure in these, er, lovely woods." I was babbling, and I knew it, so I sat down and began to fiddle with my hair.

"What has happened here?" one of the elves asked at last in halting Common.

I looked up and considered his question for a moment. Glancing around, I answered, "It seems to me that the fair maiden yonder has been attacked by orcs and left there to die only to be rescued just in time by your noble selves. Either that or she enjoys cutting off her circulation and causing brain, tissue, and nerve damage," I added, feeling rather bored.

"What is your part in this?" another elf asked me in much better Common as his two companions rushed to untie and revive MEKESSG.

Uh oh. Now I had to come up with some cheesy, believable cover story. I very well couldn't tell them the truth – that I was a visitor from another world. Such news was reserved for important people – like Gandalf – and my friends. It wasn't something I told to all the random elves I came across. But what to tell him, what to tell him?

"Hello," I said for lack of anything else. "My name is Candorien, and I, well, I …"

"Candy, let me tell them." MEKESSG had been revived, though she was pale and looked weak. "She is my dear servant and was away gathering wood when the orcs came. When she returned, they were gone, but her poor frail fingers could not untie the ropes. Nor could her small blade cut it."

The elves' leader looked at my sword and dagger, eyebrows raised. I glared at no one in particular and sucked my teeth. My fingers and weapons had been insulted, and, to top it all off, I had been called _her _servant again. Things were definitely _not_ going my way.

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**Author's Note: There! 'Ze sequel has been posted. Splurge/squee/scree your hearts out! As always, reviews are appreciated, and flames will be used to bake pies... cherry pies.**

**AiH**


	2. Forming a New Acquaintance

**MEKESSG's Brains are Yummy – O.o A cannibal. How nice. Stop twitching and acting like a stalker. Word of advice here, it doesn't go over too well with the PPC…they'll think you're a fan-girl someone accidentally let loose.**

**Sushi-san85 – No advice… to hyped-up on pizza for good advice…thanks for the typo-warning. **

**Viva-la-Spoon – She has strange powers which let her come back to life. **

**Rambie – Enough with the loving…. It scares me. **

**Slayer3 – – raises hand tentatively – Um, that was me. Don't send the PPC out for me! AAAAH! **

**Disclaimer: My lawyers have forced me to inform you that I do not own anything and am therefore not liable for any, er, injuries that occur throughout the course of this story….those are all your fault. **

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Of course, upon seeing her beauty, the elves decided MEKESSG simply **had** to come to the king's caves and be introduced to him. And of course, that was exactly what she wanted. So, of course, I had to come, too. The idea in and of itself sounded nice, but being with MEKESSG and elves who were besotted with her did not at all appeal to me. Especially when they thought I was _her _servant. Oh, well. At least I had my mind to keep me occupied.

The leader of the three elves also watched me ceaselessly. He was too sharp-minded to be befuddled into believing MEKESSG's words merely because of a pretty face. He wasn't sure about me, and so, to relieve his fears, I think, the elf showed a keen interest in me. He would ask me questions about myself, what I liked, where I came from, that sort of thing. Sometimes I would answer those questions, but when I did not feel comfortable with that, I'd ask him questions. His name, he said, was Berenglorion, quite close in meaning to my own. Berenglorion was quite a bit younger that most elves, but he never told me exactly how old or by how much. When he mentioned this with a modest look on his face, I gulped and quickly mentioned that I was only fourteen. He laughed.

It was a journey of roughly two days to the caves, and during those two days, I began to see what the elves saw in Mirkwood. They were all overly willing to point things out or brag to MEKESSG, and I listened every time they did. The forest was choc-full of plants and animals and other things I had never heard of before. It was less darksome and gloomy than it had been during Bilbo's visit. The spider population was down as well, and the wood elves were much more genial. We weren't prisoners, anyway, and that's something.

The elves picked their way carefully through the trees, often pausing to converse softly in their tongue. I was quite sure it wasn't Quenya, but whether or not it was Sindarin, I couldn't say. I am many things, but familiar with the elf-tongues is not one of them. We would then go on in the direction our guides had chosen. MEKESSG walked freely among the elves, talking to them in their own tongue, her red hair neatly braided down her back. I came behind, staring all about me in wonder. The forest invoked such reverence in me. It was grand and old and … I just really wished there was someplace like it in my world. But, like so much else I treasured there, it existed only in Middle-earth. I felt like a little mouse or, more likely, a beetle. So small and insignificant in a place of total grandeur. I kinda liked it.

At midday, we would stop and eat a type of cram… it wasn't as good as lembas, but more, er, interesting. We walked quickly if we could; there was an urgency in everyone else's footsteps and eyes. Although I had no idea what it was for, the urgency was passed on to me. I had too much hobbit in my to let it rankle, though. I merely changed the music in my head from a beautiful sonata to a march. The others stared at me open-mouthed when they saw me march or dance in place, but a few words from MEKESSG got them to think I was some poor deluded child – which I most certainly was not. I just had a song in my heart that I couldn't hide. If it wasn't dancing, trust me, it would be singing, and that I really did not want to do.

My oddness aside, it really was a very enjoyable walk/hike/trek/thing. Nights were spent in the boughs of trees; there seemed to be flets in random spots fro the patrols. Once we came across two together, and the elves slept in one while MEKESSG and I spent the night on the other. The other night, there was only one, so we all were on it. The elves were very courteous, allowing us to stretch out while they stood. MEKESSG shocked me with her polite behavior.

"That's very kind of you, sirs, but surely there's room enough for all of us," she said innocently.

"Or I can sleep on the ground," I offered quickly and eagerly. Believe you me, I was **not** thrilled with sleeping on a flet. It was decidedly uncomfortable and somewhat nerve-wracking…. I wasn't about to say that to the purr-fect others, though. Not for all the cheese in Arda. Cheese…. My mouth started watering, but I told it to stop or there would be drastic consequences. Now that I think on it, I've probably argued with most of my faculties at one point or another.

"Are you sure?" Berenglorion asked MEKESSG, shooting me a curious glance.

"Quite," MEKESSG replied firmly and tartly. He immediately backed off.

So, to my extreme discomfort, there were five of us sleeping together on that flet. Nothing untoward happened, though, let me tell you. The three elves slept off to one side, and MEKESSG and I slept on the one opposite. Privately, I was still uncomfortable with the arrangement. Just because the elves I knew personally were prime examples of chivalry, it did not necessarily follow that these elves would be like wise, no matter how much I hoped. Not that I believed I could cause that sort of interest in elves. Pur-lease. I know my own deficiencies, and I'm glad to say that is one of them.

The next day, the ellyn informed us that we were close to the caves and would reach them by noon. Our steps hastened as we thought of fire and food, not to mention meeting many more elves. I greatly desired to sit, like a stone in some fast-flowing river, and just let it all wash over me when we arrived. Mary Elizabeth Katrina Ellen Sara Susana Greenhow, however, informed the elves that she was used to parties. With a sinking feeling, I heard her describes all the fabulous balls and feasts she'd been to and remembered my inability to dance. Since he was watching me – as usual – Berenglorion noticed my change in mood. I guess it showed on my face.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly after slowing down until I drew nearer. "You look upset, Candorien."

"I can't dance," I whispered to my feet, mortified.

"What?"

"I can't dance," I repeated a bit louder.

"Oh." He laughed for a bit, but not unkindly, so I didn't grudge him the act or kick him in the shins. "That is a small thing and one quite easy to remedy."

"Oh?" I didn't sound as if I believed him at all.

"Yes. Quite easy. I can teach you."

"Really? Would you?"

"Yes, little one, I will. Tonight or this afternoon, if I have naught else to do."

I was so relieved I ignored the 'little one'. "Hannon le, Berenglorion."

"You know the elf-tongue?" he asked, surprised.

"Just bits and pieces," I admitted quickly, in case he started to talk to me in it and expected me to understand. "Not enough to get by."

"Do you wish to learn more?"

"Oh, yes," I said eagerly, "but I don't think I'm very good with languages."

He chuckled at this.

We walked in silence for a while. I was bubbling over on the inside, filled with joy. I was actually going to learn how to dance and maybe even learn Sindarin as well – or whatever language it was the wood elves of Eryn Lasgalen used. Forgetting the silent elf beside me, I began to skip around our small group, completely lost in the feelings whirling around inside me. Eventually, realizing what I was doing, I stopped and once more walked placidly next to my elvish semi-friend.

"Happy?" he asked, a smile playing about the corners of his mouth.

"Yes. Can you skip?"

"Can I what?" The elf captain looked confused.

"Can you do this?" I demonstrated skipping for him. "Well, can you?"

"No," he answered stiffly.

I grinned. I could skip, and this handsome elf couldn't. Life was good.

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**Author's Note: As always, reviews are appreciated, and flames will be used to roast marshmallows/chestnuts over an open fire. You know, the usual. Good Authoress news... she has a sword now, an archer's short sword with leather sheath... name of Piglet. So she is awesomely happy, and wants her readers to be happy...and thankful... for 'tis Thanksgiving holiday/weekend/thing. And now I feel like Pippin.**

**Ta**

**AiH**


	3. Many Meetings in Mirkwood

**Sushi-san85 – Well, that certainly sounds exciting. No COD this time, trust me. This elf is just different, for some reason neither MEKESSG, Candorien, nor even me knows. And no, I am _not_ going soft. I'm just starting in easy. The story won't be this nice all the way through, you know.**

**Thanksgiving Was Yummy – Who wins? Well, it all depends on who the contest was between, what it was over, why it was, and what the resolution was. When you can answer that, I can give you your answer.**

**Kay – Well, did you? Update, I mean. I hope you did, but… I didn't get the memo, if you did. **

**Emily – Sad? Well, yes, I suppose so.**

**Slayer3 – Infamous Celebrian smut fic? O.o Dearie me, that doesn't sound very nice. And as for the orc attack, well, you've just given me a lovely idea….**

**Alasse Irena – How do I do it? Well, I write on notebook paper, a lot faster than I update, take a quick break, and then dive back in with the sequel after a week or two. Very fun.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own good (debatable) sense and my sensible (also debatable) OC.**

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As we came to the clearing in front of the caves, Berenglorion stopped us with a held-up hand, indicating silence. He crept forward, making no noise, anxiety and unease plain in his stance.

"What is it?" MEKESSG asked, too loudly.

The other elves winced, but Berenglorion answered quietly, "I hear voices – loud voices. Too many. Something is …" He stopped suddenly and dropped down, pressing his ear to the ground.

I could hear nothing, but a low rumble, like that of a river that is yet afar off. Apparently the others could hear more, for Berenglorion straightened up with a grin.

"All is well," he said. "Rather more than well, I think."

And without pausing to explain that rather enigmatic statement, he pushed through the undergrowth and into the clearing, the rest of us at his heels.

"Mae govannen, Legolas!" Our guide rushed forward and gave someone quite familiar a hearty embrace.

Before my brain could quite decipher what this meant, a sound came to my ears. I was familiar and yet not so, the echo of some long forgotten dream. I heard it again, and recognition came. The sound came closer, closer, and I whirled suddenly into the circle of elves and held out my arms to catch a piebald blur. Changeling licked my face ecstatically, pausing to yip loudly at random intervals. She was bigger than when we had parted last, but the impish gleam in her eyes was still there, so I knew all was right between us.

_There's only one thing that would make this better, _I thought, and then I saw him. Head bent low, eyes downcast and sad, but still in good health. My Hasufel. Unable to contain my joy, I whooped, startling those around me. As the elves looked on me with shock and surprise, I waltzed over to the gelding (quite literally, I'm sorry to say). It was but the work of a moment to get rid of his packsaddle and the rope tying him to Arod. Of course, I had to put Changeling down to do this, but she had grown too big to ride in my lap, anyhow. Mounting, I wound his halter rope around my hand and held on as he performed his little trick rear. We had been parted for three months at least, but apparently some things never change.

"'Ello, Legs," I called out in the middle of the rear.

He looked my way, and his eyes widened. Then his face grew pale, and he collapsed in a dead faint.

The elves all stared at me accusatorily.

"Uh oh. I shouldn't have done that. Curses."

The stares became glares.

"I didn't do anything, all right?" Not _exactly_ true, but at times like that, well, sometimes one has to over exaggerate one's innocence.

"You've killed him!" someone cried.

"Nope. I did no such thing. Look."

Guiding Hasufel over to the prone elf, I muttered instructions to Changeling under my breath. As I reached him, she leapt onto Legolas's chest and began to give him quite a vigorous tongue bath.

"Five, four, three, two, one, and…."

"ARGH!"

"Bingo."

"Candorien, get your mutt off me!"

"Of course, um, goodness me, what is your title these days?"

"None of your business." The elf pushed my dog off and got up, brushing off his tunic and trousers. "If you don't behave, my dear young … thing, you will be confined to your chambers."

A titter arose from the other elves, and my companions gave us strange looks, but we both ignored this.

"You are not my parent, Legolas Thranduilion, and you would do well to remember it."

"Oh, I'm terrified."

"You need to work a lot more on your sarcasm," I observed soberly. "It's really quite obvious. Anyway, you do not have the authority to, ah, how did you put it? Oh, yes, 'confine me to my chambers'. Please. What are you doing with my dog, by the way?"

"I took her and Hasufel with me when Gimli and I returned here. They were rather lonely in Minas Tirith. Speaking of loneliness and Minas Tirith, how have you come here, and how did you leave there?"

"Let's just say I was called home unexpectedly and returned unexpectedly." I was loath to explain myself here and now. If he couldn't get the message from what I had said, he was thicker in the head than a concussed troll – or MEKESSG, which sometimes I think is the same thing.

"Ah, I see."

_Thank you for seeing,_ I thought.

"I hear you have met my friend Berenglorion," Legolas went on, gesturing with a gloved hand for him to come join us.

"Yup. Wait a minute… he's your friend?"

Berenglorion walked over to us. "Guilty."

"You mean… wow… You actually have friends, Legolas."

The elf glowered at me, until I thought better of my actions and took it back.

"So, Bere, how long have you two known each other?"

"Did you … Legolas, did she just…?"

Legolas patted his friend on the shoulder. "I'm afraid so. You ought to be glad, though. At least she doesn't call you Legs."

I beamed at them both. The elves surrounding us tittered again. It was starting to really annoy me.

"So, Legolas, have you been in to see your father yet?" Berenglorion asked.

"No. I got here barely ten minutes before you arrived. Everyone came out… apparently Ada was busy."

"Busy doing what?"

"Candorien, don't be so nosy. If you must know …"

"I must."

"He is looking for a cheese in the kitchens."

"A cheese?"

"Yes," Legolas answered stiffly.

"A cheese?"

"Yes!"

"Why?"

"The King likes cheese."

"How lovely, Bere. So do I. I'm sure we'll get along splendidly… what kind of cheese, by the way?"

"Cheese."

"Come on now. Surely you have some idea…"

"Candorien!"

"Sorry, Legs."

The elf ground his teeth. "Berenglorion, would you please take this charming young lady and her dog and lock them, oh, I don't know where."

"Confine me to my room? Oh, you orc! How cruel!"

"Yes, Candorien, you are going to be confined in – one of the smaller guest rooms, I think, Berenglorion. You may tell my father I said you were …"

MEKESSG, unable to stand being ignored any longer, had come forward, and Legolas had seen her.

Everyone's eyes, except Berenglorion's and mine, glazed over as they stared at her beauty. Delicately, she stepped out from the crowd and threw her arms around Legolas's neck.

"Miss me, Leggiekins?"

He blinked slowly, as if trying to fight off the intoxication her presence brought on him.

"Cand… Cand… Candorien? Whass goin' on?" The elf turned his head to look at me. I was still up on Hasufel.

"Don't look at the nasty girl, Leggiekins." MEKESSG gripped his chin gently but firmly and forced him to face her again. "Did you miss me?"

"Every moment, meleth nin." Never before had I heard Legolas's voice filled with such passion and unwavering loyalty. Judging from the look on Berenglorion's face, neither had he.

As the two began to make out right there in the open in front of us all, someone reached up and touched my leg. I jumped and then looked down. My eyes met Berenglorion's. He nodded as I mouthed the word "tonight". Something had to be done about this.

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**Author's Note: Oh, no! MEKESSG is back and as powerful as ever! What will happen next? As always, reviews are appreciated, and flames will be used to roast marshmallows.**

**AiH**


	4. Explanations on Both Sides

**Ames – Your bid is extremely tempting, but … let's wait until I officially start the bidding, all right? You'll be ahead then.**

**Emily – They make me happy, too. Tired, but _always_ happy.**

**MEKESSG's Arms Were Yummy – Flattery is nice, but I do wish you would stop trying to eat my characters. It isn't very polite.**

**Sushi-san85 – Hmmm. It does seem like you have a rather lot to learn. Do tell me when you manage to get it all down.**

**Kay – Yes, she is a psycho, but she is a clever psycho who very few people who think she is psycho. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Someone else owns it all…sadly.**

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I was alone at last, surrounded by quiet, forgotten once again by the great and mighty. I wasn't feeling slighted in the slightest, if you'll pardon my pun. There were lists to be made, ideas to be formed, and meditation to catch up on. But first, to get settled in the small room allotted to me. A quick efficient search of it provided pen and paper, a hairbrush, and a neat stack of spare clothes in a corner. I was very pleased.

I had just started to meditate when the door burst open and Berenglorion came in. He was dressed in brown – which didn't surprise me – and bore a single white stone on a leather thong around his neck – which did.

"You look nice," I observed, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

"What? Oh, the jewel." He looked embarrassed.

"Yes, the jewel. Do sit down. I hate to feel overly important when I know I'm not."

The elf did, taking his seat quite close to me on the bed.

"Look, Candorien, we have to talk."

"Yes?" Why was I getting chick-flick movie déjà vu?

"Legolas is more than a friend to me."

I felt myself unconsciously stiffen and knew my back had suddenly gone ramrod straight.

"Oh, Candorien, please don't tell me you …" he put a hand on my arm, and I slowly forced myself to look at him. "He's my cousin, and almost a brother to me since I grew up enough to be more than a childish nuisance. And I do not like the idea of, well, of losing him."

"So you're jealous?" I noted his hand was still on my arm but didn't shrug it off. He wasn't freaking me out anymore. I understood jealously quite well.

"Yes, but there's more to it than that."

"Eh?"

"You see how he is around your …"

"Accomplished and unsavory acquaintance? Yeah."

"I was going to say 'mistress'. How do you know her, anyway?"

"Uh, that's ED, and we don't need to discuss it now."

"ED?"

"Extraneous data, extra detail, you know."

"Oh." Berenglorion realized his hand was still on my arm and jerked it away. I managed to restrain my laughter. "Well, Legolas seems to love her a great deal – as does everyone else," he added wryly. "I do not think such a relationship is good for either of them. Those of the line of Oropher are not meant to spend their long days pandering to the whims of females not yet come of age."

"So they're not supposed to be love slaves to teenage girls, Berry?"

"Please don't call me that, urchin."

"Urchin? Now that was uncalled for."

"Yes, well, you have some very odd sayings." He looked at me keenly. "What I would give to know all about you." My insides twitched. He really didn't need to know all about me, or even most about me, for that matter. "Will you not tell me?"

I can sell some things away, even information, if there is something else I want more. Such proved to be the case in this instance. "Can you promise me a quiet evening away from all the hubbub, silliness, and stupidity?"

He laughed at that one.

"Of course I can. Stables sounds all right? I noticed you liked horses earlier."

"Sounds lovely. Can we go now?"

It was a very cozy place, that stable. The horses champed grain in their stalls, bales of hay and straw were piled everywhere, and there wasn't another soul insight. We settled ourselves comfortably. Berenglorion perched on the stall door as I groomed Hasufel.

"You two seem very at ease with each other," the elf observed casually.

"He is my horse, you know. Given to me by an old friend … acquaintance, really. But … yeah." I let my voice trail into silence and turned back to the task at hand.

"You said you would reveal your secrets, Candorien."

I laughed, startling Hasufel from his oats. "A woman never reveals _all _her secrets, Berry. We'd lose our power if we did. No, my friend, I shan't tell you everything, but there is a deal to tell you. First of all, I'm not from Middle-earth. Nor, do I think, is MEKESSG. But my thoughts, ideas, plots, and devices on that don't matter. My world is so different from yours, Berry. Not at all as green and fresh as Middle-earth, or as beautiful, either, to my eyes. It is cold and gray, and selfishness and cynicism abound. I liked Middle-earth better, you know. I'd love to live here. But I don't," I finished sadly.

"I'm guessing you've been to Middle-earth before, then?" It wasn't really a question. "A few days in Eryn Lasgalen could not have given you such a good impression so fast."

"Yes." My eyes clouded over with memory as I gazed over the gelding's back. "I have. And it was one of the best times I've ever had. Did you ever hear the tale of the War of the Ring?"

"Bits and pieces. Not the whole tale yet. I tried to ask Legolas this afternoon, but he was too busy…"

"Snogging MEKESSG?"

"That, and other things, supposing 'snogging' means 'kissing'."

"It does," I assured him. "So, would you like to hear the story?"

"Anything Miss wants to tell me, I will hear." Berenglorion leapt down from the door into the stall, coming perilously close to me. I could smell the straw and horses on him and see the amusement and interest in his eyes. Valar, why did dashing guys always get this close to me? Didn't they realize I was a teenage girl with rampant hormones? Apparently not, and for that I was grateful.

"Look, do I have to wheedle it out of you, or are you going to tell me the tale?" Berenglorion laughed, putting a hand on my shoulder. "And start at the ends when you brush his mane and tail. Trust me, Candorien, it hurts them less."

"And you know this from personal experience, I presume?" I teased.

"Of course." He fingered his long braids unconsciously. "Now the story, if you please, Miss Candorien."

"Spoilsport," I grumbled, but went ahead and told him the story. As I talked, we finished grooming Hasufel and went for a walk along the Forest River. Berenglorion was the perfect audience. He listened intently, often unbraiding his hair and then doing it back up, and asked questions at key points. He oohed and aahed at the right moments, laughed when I told him of my random escapades, and gave me some very odd looks as I told him of Bob. That didn't surprise me in the least. Elves and Balrogs aren't meant to get along, so I suppose I must forgive Berenglorion's quick steps away from me at that moment. I guess he couldn't help it anymore than I can help hanging out with Balrogs or being a total band nerd. Some things are just hereditary… okay, maybe my weirdness isn't, but … my parents are still telling people the aliens switched their real child with me at birth.

He heard me out, though, and when I was finished just sat on the grass by the water's edge, head in his hands as he thought over all I'd said. The sun was still up, and I knew a wade was called for. In no time, I had my shoes and socks off and was rolling my pants up to my knees. Into the water I splashed, ignoring the cold current. Seeing that Berenglorion was watching me, I grinned and waved.

"You're daffy!" he called, rising gracefully and walking over to me, laughter twinkling in his kind grey eyes.

I got out of the river and quickly pulled my shoes and socks on with just a small shiver.

"Of course I'm daffy, Berry. Did you like my story?"

"It was odd, very thought-provoking, and on the whole rather true, I think." He regarded me coolly with those intense grey eyes. "As are you."

We stood in silence for a moment, watching each other, then the elf shook it off.

"Come." He grinned at me wickedly. "Last one back to the caves is a dead orc!"

And we were off.

* * *

**Author's Note: I hope you enjoy the fluffly chapter. 'Tis my Christmas gift to my readers. As always, reviews are appreciated, and flames will be used to keep the boys warm while I am on vacation. This does not mean, however, that Sues will be allowed in during my abscence. I shall be covering the premises with advanced warding spells. Any Sue who attempts to bother Legolas, Will, or Erik will be set upon by wild mumakil. And they say I'm barbaric... well, at least I warned everyone! **

**Merry Christmas!**

**Authoressinhiding**


	5. Tales, Songs, and All That Jazz

**Emily – I thanks you and says I will try to.**

**Rambie – Yay! to you, too.**

**Viva-la-Spoon – If you're confused, then my job here is done. – grin – **

**Your Characters Are Yummy – Please stop with the wanting to eat my characters. It doesn't bode well for either you or them.**

**Sushi-san85 – So what shall I call you now? Mrs. Sushi-Jarlaxle? - ducks blow – Tell Jarlaxle I hope you have a happy honeymoon. **

**Kay – Well, none really tried, because Erik and Will spent quite a bit of time sharpening my swords, so… one did attempt to come in through the window. Will gutted her while Erik trilled my piccolo. Legolas either won't or can't try to control them. – sigh – **

**Ames – I laugh at your forgetfulness but thank you for the review and the update. A very belated Merry Christmas to you, too, mate!**

**Alfalfa – Yes, fluff is very fun. To write as well as to read.**

**Slayer3 – If I ever write Sue fluff, I will drive a stake through my own head. Or go visit Dracula and let him bite me. Not quite sure which. **

**Shapeshifter – I'm glad you enjoyed the first one. I love writing these stories. They make life so much more … interesting.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned it, the whole world would know it. Trust me.**

* * *

Needless to say, he beat me, and I was called an orc's corpse all through the simple dinner we shared with other elven soldiers. Berenglorion convinced the brass that I was ill so I could enjoy the company of the (relatively) normal elves. They accepted me without so much as an eye-twitch, proving my theory that some _very_ odd things went on in that court.

After dinner they courteously invited Berenglorion and myself to an evening of music. Naturally, we went. Flautists played soft, haunting melodies, accompanied by the harp and some instrument highly reminiscent of a set of panpipes. The elves just sat enraptured and listened to the music, occasionally standing up to sing or recite poetry. My presence was forgotten even by Berenglorion as I sat in a corner alone and listened, soon lost in the strange beauty around me. Time became a blur, the only differentiating points when the tales were obviously different or the meter changed suddenly.

At one point, I recall being asked – for politeness' sake, I'm sure – if I would like to perform. As if in a trance, I stood and played a spirited rendition of _The Countries Song_, also known as _Yakko's World_ on my ever-present flute. Some of the elves looked interested, and most looked shocked, but as I sat down and became placid and quiet once more, I was again forgotten.

Even though I have been talking quite a bit since I first learned how, I do enjoy listening – when there is anything interesting to hear. And oh, what I heard that night! Stories – almost exactly alike to the ones in my copies of HoME and the Silmarillion, but with more flavor – told by the children and grandchildren of elves who had actually been to Doriath. Jealousy ignited in my heart as I heard tell of the Second Age and its glories. There were also tales of battles in the forest with Sauron's forces and the Battle of Five Armies, which were recited by some of the younger warriors, the joy of battle alight in their eyes.

I felt like a little child in that great company, seeing so many fair elves telling of their race's – and indeed, their own – joys and sorrows, triumphs and failures. Even Berenglorion was transformed in that place, more cheerful and light, yet more powerful and serious at the same time. He laughed and sang, drank and played, until I lost track of him in all the glory.

My head began to nod, even as I stared in wonder. Still I was unnoticed, like a speck of dust in the air. Not even those near me were watching now, and so I was free to drop all easiness and politeness and just listen to the beauty around me. Thoughts bounced through my head at random. Thoughts of my position, company, and some rather worried ones about getting home.

You see, after waking up from a six-month coma and having lost so much – and perhaps gained so much more – I was unhappy about the idea of a repeat. After all, the rules of Middle-earth don't bend for mere fourteen-year-old girls. Well, I don't think that, after going to Middle-earth and having a coma while there, the return from my next trip would be any different, and that scared me. I had no desire to land myself in another coma. No sirreedeedeedy. But … if it came down to either being in a coma and being in Middle-earth or being safe and bored at home and school, well, then, my choice was obvious. Boredom and safety or adventure and danger? Definitely the latter. I knew my mind was made up.

_And now to other matters. What was I going to do about MEKESSG and Legolas?_

_Break them up, of course, _a voice in the back of my mind said matter-of-factly. _You can do it._

_No, I can't._

_And why not?_

_Because she rocks, and I … I …_

_We have issues with everything._

_Yeah. Maybe it's just that she's got looks, brains, and the guy, leaving us with… with…_

_With friendship._

_Excuse me? _This caught my attention, and I stopped messing with my tunic and paid attention to the conversation going on in my subconscious.

_She has everyone's love, yes?_

_Yes… where are we going with this?_

_Hang on… I have a point, I promise. Well, we have something greater. We have that friendship – Legolas's, Berenglorion's, Aragorn's, Gimli's, and a few other people's, I think. They know us – respect us too, maybe – and accept us. Do you want more than that? Than pure friendship and love?_

_Maybe. Maybe I want adoration and devotion._

_Then you're a fool and no better than MEKESSG, if you refuse friendship like that merely because devotion isn't available._

_I never said that! _I hastened to interrupt. _I would rather have the friendship of several than the adoration of one._

_Good. And now – time to bed!_

Slowly, I pushed myself up from the chair, mind numb due to all the fuss and bebother that had been going on in my head. I knew only that I was tired and in need of rest. It hurt to have exercised my mind so fully – discussing a dichotomy of not good and evil, per se, but something more important: adoration vs. friendship. Quite tiresome.

As I quietly slipped from the room, a hand touched my shoulder. A quick glance backward revealed it to belong to Berenglorion, who had apparently risen and followed me out. His eyes, bright as ever, had not been dulled by the stories and music.

"How can you take all that in and not become befuddled?"I bounced off a wall, and he slid an arm around my waist to steady me.

"Have you had any wine, Candorien?" His kind face was somewhat worried. "I did tell them not to give you any. Did they ignore my directions?"

"No," I answered slowly, leaning against him. I was _very_ tired, and it just felt like the right thing to do. "The atmosphere in there is enough, though, to make me this way. Sorry."

"It's perfectly all right. I must be up with the sun to give my report to the king, at any rate. I would have given it to him long before now, but," with a sigh and shrug, he continued through the halls, my head on his shoulder, "I believe he is otherwise occupied at the moment. So, I will see him in the morning, and you probably will, too, now I think on it. Are you …" he paused and looked down into my eyes uncomfortably. "Are you in need of, er, anything?"

I jumped about three feet away from the elf, torn between embarrassment and amusement. The latter won out. An impish gleam in my eye, I tilted my head to one side and considered the question for a long while.

"No, my friend, I don't think so," I replied at last. "It isn't quite that time of the month, you know," I added on a hunch.

The startled look that flashed across his face and the considerable relief that immediately followed it told me I'd guessed right, and so I did not resume my use of him as a pillow. It wasn't right anymore, and somehow I knew to do so would be to embarrass myself greatly.

"Goodnight," he said courteously when at last we reached my room.

"Good night."

He turned to leave and was in fact several paces away from me when I ran after and caught him by the sleeve.

"Berry?"

"Yes?" There was no annoyance in his voice, only curiosity and patience.

"Thanks. Thank you so much for everything."

Berenglorion touched my shoulder lightly and smiled. "You're quite welcome. And now to bed?"

As we parted and went our separate ways, I could have sworn I heard a familiar tune emanating softly from his lips.

"Don't cry, little elfling, be quiet and still."

The words floated back to me over the night air, calling to mind another night, another elf, another farewell. Tears came to my eyes, then, for I missed the Legolas I had known and feared that, if I proved unable to save him, we would lose him forever. And we it was, for, by his glance earlier in the day, Berenglorion had shown himself allied with me. And I liked him. Quite a lot.

With a soft, girlish sigh, I went into my room and got ready for bed. Tomorrow would come when it did, and I would be ready to face the king's court with attitude, clumsiness, and insanity on my side, as always.

* * *

**Author's Note: As always, reviews are welcome, and flames will be used to make s'mores! Which s'mores will be made by Legolas, Will, and Erik, who have all fallen in love with the chocolatey, gooey desserts. Valar save us all if we run out of marshmallows. **

**Until next time,**

**Authoressinhiding**


	6. Savvy!

**Sushi-san85… Baenre – Shall I inform Jarlaxle of what 'marriage' and 'honeymoon' mean? – grin – Anyway, we'll leave Candorien's moral dilemmas out of this. We aren't quite to that point in the story yet, ya know.**

**Slayer3 – Are you indicating that you _want_ shippiness? SCARY! I don't know… maybe yes… maybe no.**

**Emily – Sorry for taking so long to update! I'm really quite busy with band and classes and reading and whatnot.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Absolutely nothing. So get that into your heads, thou ruttish, sheep-biting foot-lickers! – snigger – I absolutely love Shakespearean insults.**

* * *

The next morning arrived, and with it came problems. My clothes were not suitable for an audience with a king – or so they told me – and I did not know the proper etiquette. Faugh.

"I'm going." My chin was set determinedly, and I was almost ready to go.

"But, milady…"

"No 'milady's, if you please. And I _will_ go, savvy?"

I put my hair up with a few quick brush strokes, secured my belt, and rearranged my necklace fastidiously.

"But…."

"No 'but's, either, or we'll all get in trouble, eh? You got any tube socks?" My band-inspired humor was lost on the stoic elleth. "Never mind that."

The elf maid frowned at me. She was, of course, dazzlingly pretty – thought she couldn't touch MEKESSG. Then again, of everyone I'd ever met in all my fourteen years, the only two people who could touch MEKESSG were Arwen and Galadriel – and they left little Miss Mary Elizabeth Katrina Ellen Sara Susana Greenhow in the dust.

"You do not look right," she frowned.

"No, no, I probably don't, but that's all right. No one ever expects me to be well dressed or proper or anything similar to that. I'm just me, and they know it."

"But…"

"Enough!" I whirled to face her, hands on hips, gray eyes snapping. "You are neither my host nor my caretaker. You have no power over me."

"Oh, and who is your caretaker, eh? From what I hear, you're a penniless orphan here on my lord's charity…Oof!"

Form dictated I react, and so I threw myself at her and had quite a lovely fight. By the time anyone heard her screams and came to see what was the matter, I was perched merrily on top of her, grinning smugly.

"What are you doing?" Berenglorion asked me, staring at the two of us in mute horror.

"Squishing her, love. You got a problem?"

"Yes. That's the king's second cousin's grandmother's uncle's great-grandchild."

"Yeah, and I'm the cousin to the sister of the son's niece's brother of the uncle's brother's father's of the nephew's sister's mother, and my grandpa's only cousin was the king's daughter's sibling… but they're all gone, and that is why I am not your king!" I singsonged. "What now?"

Berenglorion sighed and pulled me off the elleth, giving me odd looks all the while. "Do you never behave?"

"Nopers. Ready to go see the king?"

"Yes. Are you?"

I gave my appearance a quick once-over, straightening my tunic and tucking a stray wisp of hair behind my ears.

We quit my room speedily, leaving the irate elleth fuming behind us. The passageways were well lit with new torches, and several elves bustled along, going about their business with a no-nonsense air.

"You should not have done that," he observed quietly, turning into a passage that sloped upwards.

I shrugged easily. "Why not?"

"Because it is…"

"Rude, immature, and ill-bred? Trust me, Berry, I know."

"Must you call me that?" he demanded impatiently.

"But of course… unless I could call you Beren?"

He stiffened visibly, and cold came into those unfathomable gray eyes. Worse, he would not look at me.

"No, Candorien. We do not use the names of the dead like the Atâni. I am not Beren One-hand. I shall not be called by his name."

"Not even as a nickname?"

"No." His voice was firm, but his eyes as he looked at me were kind once more. "Not even as a nickname."

"Then what am I to call you?"

"I have no idea. Not Berry, at least. That one is quite embarrassing."

"Then I shall have to think. Hmmm." Pulling him to a stop, I surveyed the elf carefully. Some of his dark hair was in several small braids that formed a circlet around his head while the rest of it hung loose. His eyes flicked from me to the hall and back to me again. Quickly, I noted the lay and design of his yellow-green tunic and trousers, his weapons – some concealed, some not – and his obvious unease.

"Char."

"What?"

"Char. It suits you."

"Do I even want to know?"

"Of course not."

"Not surprising." Sighing, he turned to leave. "And now I fear we are late for our appointment with the king. Come along." He snatched my arm and attempted to pull me after him.

I planted both feet firmly on the floor. No way was I going, not after the pain that had just shot through my body.

"No. Me hungry. Me want food. Me want food now."

"Well, you can't have any. I'm sorry, but we really are late!"

"Fine, Char, but just to warn you, I am not responsible for my actions when on an empty stomach. Savvy?"

"Yes, yes, I savvy!"

I stared up at him in amazement. "Did you just say 'savvy'?"

"Yes."

"Are you serious?"

"Maybe." He grinned innocently, but it wasn't very convincing.

"Okay, you're weird, moving on, let's go!"

We hurried off, me still considering his use of one of my personal words. It sounded cute when he said it, real cute. My crush grew bigger, but not beyond the bounds of reason. This time, I would control my crush and use it to help me. My plan couldn't fail, as long as Char didn't say 'savvy' again. If he did, I knew I would be lost.

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**Author's Note: Sorry the chapter's so short, but I have been extremely busy of late. Band, school, homework, the usual. As always, reviews are appreciated, and flames will be used to feed my flame-thrower and then used to pelt Mary-Sues and other such annoying denizens. **

**Until next time,**

**Authoressinhiding**


	7. Going Before the King

**Ames – Yes, love, nicknames are fun! I shall not be doling out the pie and cheese with this update, but there should be some pasties. Yum!**

**Sushi-san85 Baenre – I'll try to work on the descriptions, mate. Oh, are you sure Jarlaxle hasn't figured out the wife concept yet? 'Twill be interesting when he does.**

**Slayer3 – You want shippiness. Just admit it while you're still ahead.**

**Kay – Even I'm not sure where it's going some days. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Someone else owns everything. Except the OC's. As always.**

* * *

If ever, in your wild adventures, you have the chance to meet a king of the fey folk, do not make the mistake of assuming you are prepared for it. I had seen Aragorn in his kingly moments and felt the urge to bow my knee to his. I had been around many others of noble lineage and royal bearing. Hey, I was there when Gandalf confronted Saruman – though I think I was yawning at the time. Yeah, I knew big and flashy – as well as quiet and regal – and was used to their side effects. What I didn't consider in my calculations was the king's elfyness, to use my word for it.

Berenglorion and I entered the king's hall quietly. He went before with me a mere half-step behind. As we got closer, I saw his shoulders go rigid. His breathing became softer, more controlled. My palms, curse them, began to sweat. It was all Berenglorion's fault, I swear. If he had been relaxed, I would have been relaxed. But noooooooooo. All this, and I hadn't taken my eyes from the back of the ellon's head.

"My lord." Berenglorion bowed low, bending from the knees, I saw, and probably speaking the Westron for my sake. "I have recently returned from the outer forest and have come to make my report."

"Good. I am glad the entire patrol returned safely. Who is this?" The king's voice had a funny lilt to it, an accent, if you will, but one I had never heard before.

"My lord, this is Candorien. We found her in a clearing on our return." He didn't say more, just stared at the ground with quiet calm.

"Oh?"

I still hadn't looked up, and my neck was beginning to feel sore.

"Yes, my lord." Berenglorion kept his eyes on the floor… why? "We found her with the lady Mary Elizabeth Katrina Ellen Sara Susana Greenhow."

"Then she is most welcome. Legolas introduced me to his beautiful love this morning. She's part Maiar, you know."

Berenglorion nodded. "My lord, what would – "

"Remain at the caves and be Lady Candorien's escort."

I dared to look up, grinning now. So I was to be a lady, eh? Well, it wouldn't be too hard to play the part.

"Thank you, my lord." I bowed from the knees and began to look around. The large hall's gray stone walls were adorned with tapestries and a bright fire crackled and burned in a corner grate. The king, a tall, pale elf, looked much like his son. In Thranduil's face blazed the same eyes that I knew so well in Legolas, save his held more sad wisdom, less merriment.

"Is such a course to your liking?" The king's cool tone reminded Berenglorion that he had not yet answered his king.

At once, Char snapped to attention. "Yes, my lord."

"Good. If that is all, you may take the lady wherever she wishes to go."

"Including the dungeons and treasury?" My impish smile did nothing to convince him of my innocence.

The king sighed. "As you wish." When he thought I wasn't paying attention, though, I heard him murmur to Char, "Watch her like a hawk and check her pockets."

A grin lit up my face. Life was fun when no one had any idea what I was up to.

We were soon excused from the presence of the king. Once outside the door, Berenglorion took my hand, looking relieved. Bringing it to his lips, he kissed it and laughed. "Lady, eh?"

"Look, Char, I didn't know. Now, come on, you promised me breakfast, mate."

"Of course. Anything Lady Candorien asks for."

"Char!"

He laughed again, merry gray eyes twinkling at me.

"Breakfast, mate," I reminded him, giving the elf a slight nudge with my shoulder to get him moving. "And let go of my hand."

"Oh. Sorry." Looking embarrassed, he dropped my hand. "Follow me." He set off down the hall at a dignified walk, making me run to catch up.

"Look," I linked my arm through his, "Char, you have to relax. You can't be so stressed and fidgety all the time."

"Why are you doing that?" He stared down at our linked arms.

"What? Oh, that." I waved an airy hand. "You are my escort, are you not?"

"Yes…?" Berenglorion gave me a questioning look.

"Well, then. At EFY – my church camp, Char – "

"Hold on." The elf held up a hand to stop me. "Church camp?"

"Sorry, luv. Forgot yet didn't know all me lingo. Church is the place men go to worship God – Eru, I suppose – and camp is a place people send their children to sometimes. It was a weeklong thing where we met others of our faith. Got it?"

"I savvy," he replied.

I smiled. "Well, anyways, at EFY, we're divided into companies of boys and girls. And the boys escort the girls all over the place." I leaned against him with a perfect Scarlett O'Hara sigh as we passed an open passage leading down to what I supposed must be the cellars.

"Don't."

Immediately, I snapped back up and said, "I beg your pardon." He gave it me, and we continued merrily, arms still linked, towards the kitchens.

Upon arrival, it became clear that Berenglorion was a favorite of the chief cook's, who laughed and joked with him before wrapping up several pasties for us to munch on

"Who is this?" she asked him, a twinkle in her eye. She was jolly and light even for an elf and seemed eternally young. "Come, Berenglorion. Tell me who your delightfully quiet friend is."

"The name's Candorien, miss." I plopped my bumbosity down on a stool by the hearth and smiled up at her. "Need any help?"

"Not just at present, but I could use…." She stopped and considered us, head cocked to one side. "Yes, Candorien, actually, there is something you can do."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Go find me some," she gave Berenglorion a measuring look, "rosemary. Eru knows I could use it. And don't return until tomorrow, all right?" Her brows came together, giving her a stern air.

"But… we can't." Berenglorion looked both disappointed and uneasy. "It would not be allowed."

"Pish-tosh." The cook put a hand on his arm. "Oh, no, you don't. You are not going to talk yourself out of doing something good for the both of you."

"Eh?" I looked up from my stool. "Explain. Now."

"You obviously need something to keep you busy. No sane girl volunteers in a palace kitchen when she is an honored guest," she chuckled. "As for Berenglorion, he cannot stay in this palace for too long or something bad happens. Either he starts planning a voyage over-sea to Tol Erressea, or he sets something on fire." The elleth smiled wryly, "Last time, it was my kitchen garden. You can see why I dislike the idea of a repeat."

I nodded, looking curiously at Char and taking mental notes. A way to use this information would present itself sooner or later. Silent, Berenglorion stood staring at the ground.

"I just came in from the fences," he murmured at last. "I am not in need of coddling, mellon nin. And what will people say?"

"They will talk," the elleth shrugged. "They always do. They'll get over it."

He looked so helpless standing there, looking at us both with frustration and self-accusation in his gray eyes. I couldn't think of anything to do for a while. The three of us just stood (in my case, sat) there in silence, the only sound being the thud-thud of the elleth's knife slicing a pile of carrots into salad-sized pieces.

At last an idea popped into my head, causing me to shiver as it delivered its message.

"Candorien?"

"Char," I sighed. "I've got an idea."

"Oh?" He brightened. Snappers. Now I had to ruin his hopes.

"You aren't going to like it."

The elleth looked at me sharply.

Taking a deep breath, I continued, "We could go, Char. We could go, if…"

"If?"

"If MEKESSG and Legolas come with us," I said all in a rush and then settled back to wait for the explosion.

* * *

**Author's Note: I typed this all up while watching Hornblower. The fourth one. Mariette and Horatio kill me every time. The Marquis can die, though. I shan't mind overmuch. AS always, reviews are appreciated, and flames will be used for my flame thrower so I can help destroy the Marquis and save Mariette. Vive le roi! NOT!**

**Authoressinhiding**


	8. Preparations

**Rambie – And as my nearly brain-dead self can't think of anything else to say to your review, Yay!**

**Slayer3 – As if I would ever write that! Come on, mate. You know me better than that … don't you?**

**Disclaimer: It all belongs (or did) to Tolkien. Now I don't know whose it is, but it sure doesn't belong to me.**

* * *

Berenglorion's reaction was not long in coming.

"What?" Char exploded. "No, no, no, absolutely and positively not!"

"Why?" I asked innocently.

"Because I do not want to have to deal with their…"

"Public displays of affection?"

"Yes."

"Come on, Char. We can plot how to break them up on the way," I added pleadingly.

"All right, then. I'll go." His eyes gleamed with interest and excitement as he grabbed my hand (again!) and dragged me form the kitchen, finally giving me my pasties.

"Char!" I stuffed a pasty partway into my mouth and took a large bite. "Where are we going?"

"To arrange a secret romantic get-away for Legolas and MEKESSG, of course," he answered matter-of-factly. "Where else?"

"Okay," I said through a mouthful of pasty.

"Go get your things. I'll be in the stable we visited last night."

With a nod, I took off for my room, using the gait my friend Sally had said made me look like a monkey. My hands hung down by my ankles, and I ran, bent over like that, all the way to my chambers. Once inside, I gather together a change of clothes, some paper, a pen, and my weapons in a tight bundle. Figuring I had some time, I collapsed onto the bed with a loud sigh. It was time to think.

What to do, what to do? On the one hand, I could go on this fantastic adventure full of subterfuge. On the other, I could stay and be bored to tears. Not a hard decision, on the whole.

Grinning evilly, I grabbed my pack from the bed and slipped out of the room, shutting the thick oak door behind me. No one stopped me on my way out of the caves. I was surprised at this but took advantage of it anyway. With my new position as lady, I became – or so it seemed – above such things as inquiry and suspicion. Or maybe people were too freaked out by the insanity before them to linger. Either way, the elves left me alone, and for this I rejoiced. It is hard enough to plan a secret escape normally, and even harder when hundreds of sharp-eared and –eyed elves are watching you.

It didn't take me more than fifteen minutes to make my way to the stables. Berenglorion was waiting there with packs of food and blankets. My elf friend had saddled Arod and Hasufel. Changeling sat expectantly at his feet. In the months since we had parted, the dog had grown into a rangy hound with soulful eyes, quiet and loyal instead of hyper. While I felt nostalgic for my lost puppy, I liked the mature dog quite well.

"Candorien, are you ready?" he asked, looking at me with a smile in his eyes. Changeling yipped and wagged her tail excitedly.

"Yeppers." MY clothes and things went into the saddlebags, and hurried to secure my weapons about my person. "Why only two horses, love?"

Berenglorion wisely chose to overlook the 'love'. "One for the two of us, one for them," he explained. "It will make things a great deal tidier."

I obviously didn't look convinced, for he sighed and told me that I would see what he meant later. Biting my lower lip, I nodded.

"So now what?"

"Now, we find Legolas and Lady Mary Elizabeth Katrina Ellen Sara Susana Greenhow. I think your hound could help us with that."

I gave Changeling our so-what-should-we-do look, and she yawned widely, showing her sharp white teeth. Chuckling inwardly, I turned to Berenglorion.

"She'll do it, Char. Changeling, fetch_ her_." I pantomimed a shocked squeak and pretended to faint. Berenglorion, attentive as ever, caught me before I hit the ground and pulled me up. "Got it, girl?"

She barked softly and took off running out of the stable.

"You two are _good_," observed Berenglorion with a smile.

"We've had a lot of practice," I admitted, smiling back in return. "Thanks for catching me."

"No problem," he said off-handedly. We stood in silence for a moment. Suddenly, he wondered, "Shouldn't we have followed Changeling?"

"Nopers." I shrugged. "She'll bring them here. Always does. She's a very good tracker and fetcher… wait. Is that even a word?"

"I have no idea." He was studying his nails.

"I'll use it anyways."

More minutes passed in silence. Berenglorion was watching his nails and ignoring me, so I turned my mind to other things than the gorgeous gorgeousness of the elf before me. Things such as Hasufel.

The gray gelding looked at me carefully and whuffed a warm puff of air at my face. His nostrils flared as he did so, and I was struck with the beauty of horses once more.

"Easy, boy," I crooned, running a hand along the bridge of his nose. Hasufel whuffed again. With a soft sigh, I laid my head on his neck, still stroking his face. Hasufel shook his head to get rid of me and sidestepped away. I took the hint and backed off. It wouldn't do to ruin a perfectly satisfactory friendship just because I didn't know when to quiet.

We'd been quiet for perhaps ten minutes when Berenglorion began to hum. The noise startled me out of a very long, abstract tangent my mind had gone off into. Looking around, I realized the noise was coming from Char. The humming was weirdly off-key, yet somehow pleasant. He was still staring down at those probably immaculate nails. Odd. He looked almost, well, he looked fazed out. Some of my friends at home have the tendency to faze out quite often, but Char wasn't a teenage girl with questionable mental faculties. He was a handsome, skilled elf probably high in the king's favor. That still didn't change the fact he was staring at those nails as if they were the only things in existence. Not to mention the humming.

I decided to leave him alone. My friends usually got onto me if I talked to them when they were fazed out. It irritated them. Consequently, I soon learned not to do it, especially when unsure of the person in question's reaction. Rolling my eyes, I returned to my tangent.

Seconds later, the door banged open. Changeling ran in, followed by Legolas. He was pulling MEKESSG by the hand. Both were laughing. Berenglorion immediately snapped to attention, and I waited for him to speak. Changeling trotted over to me and sat down, eyes silently pleading for an ear scratch. As I complied, she wriggled in ecstasy.

"How would you like a short retreat into the forest?" Berenglorion suggested, a gleam in his eyes. "I know the perfect place – that glade where you took me on my first hunt, Legolas, remember?"

MEKESSG and Legolas exchanged sappy, romantic looks. Char asked me can-you-believe-this-silliness? with his eyes. I rolled mine in reply. Finally, the lovebirds broke eye contact. Legolas turned to us with a grin.

"Of course we'll go, cousin."

As he and MEKESSG gave each other even more lovey-dovey looks, I felt myself stricken with horror. What had Char and I gotten ourselves into?

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**Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed the chapter. There's much more fun, insanity, and drama coming soon. As always, reviews are appreciated, and flames will be used to fuel my flamethrower. And now, bringing a special message from Seymour and Audrey (but not Audrey II), DON'T FEED THE PLANTS! I mean... nvm. If that made no sense, go watch Little Shop of Horrors.**

**Ta,**

**Authoressinhiding**


	9. Legless and Cancan

**Kay – Probably more like what _haven't_ I gotten them into. The story's only now getting interesting? I thought I was better than that. Ah, well. Just as long as you keep reading.**

**Slayer3 – No, 'tisn't. And there might be some romance in the future… me dunno. 'Tis a work in progress.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Absolutely nothing. As usual. Jeez, people, stop asking me the same question every time I update!**

**Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to JuMiKu.**

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I found out all too soon. Legolas and MEKESSG mounted Arod together, and she sat with her head on his shoulder and one of his arms around her waist. Commenting that, as Hasufel was my horse and knew me better, Berenglorion insisted that I ride in front and hold the reins. I had, of course, no disagreement to this, so I pulled myself up into the saddle. My elven escort hopped up after me. 

Char secured his arms around me and whispered in my ear, "Looks like everything is going to plan."

"Yeah." Then, in a louder tone, I called, "Changeling, come on!"

The rangy dog lifted her head and barked as she got to her feet.

"Mordor, Gandalf, is it left or right?"

"What?"

"Never mind that. What direction do we go, Char? I don't know the way, you know."

"Oh, right. Give me the reins."

"You're an elf. Can't you just tell the horse what to do?"

"Well, yes, but that isn't the point – "

"Would you two stop quarreling and get moving?" Legolas said pointedly. "Honestly, you're worse than Gimli and me, once you get started." He looked at Berenglorion sternly from under his brows. "I would have thought you at least, cousin, would act a little more your age."

MEKESSG sniffed her agreement.

"I don't see why he should," I retorted before Char could go and get himself all offended, poking him in the side to make sure he kept himself quiet. "After all, Legless, you rarely act older than a hormonally-crazed sixteen-year-old human boy. Stop being such a hypocrite, and let's get a move on."

Berenglorion chuckled softly, but he hid it by burying his face in my hood and pretending to cough. The others glared at me. I stared back at them, unruffled by their anger. I'd had worse things directed towards me. Buckets of icy cold water, for example.

"Let's go." Char whispered something in whatever Elvish language the people of Mirkwood use. Not Quenya, but maybe not Sindarin either. Whatever language it was, he spoke far too softly for me to hear. Hasufel caught it, though. His ears swiveled around, and the gelding took off at a fast canter through the forest. Arod followed after.

"By the way, Candy," Legolas called from behind us, "if you call me 'Legless' again, I shall be forced to call you Can-can." I felt Char wince behind me. "Got it?"

"You call me Can-can, and I'll make you Legless, you insult-trading pustule. Savvy?"

"Candy, you forget your place," MEKESSG simpered.

"It's right here, between you and Jack," I muttered, quoting the sexiest blacksmith in the history of universe.

The great annoyance obviously didn't hear me, for she went on, "You're only my maid – lady-in-waiting, if you prefer – " I ground my teeth in fury, "and you would do well to remember it."

As I opened my mouth to protest, Berenglorion squeezed me around the waist to shut me up. It did (I couldn't breathe), but I poked him hard in the stomach.

"No touchy," I hissed. "Next time just tell me to shut up, all right? It works better that way. Trust me."

He snorted, but I could deal with that.

"So, Candy, why did you and Berenglorion arrange this little get-together, eh?" Mary Elizabeth Katrina Ellen Sara Susana Greenhow asked me maliciously.

Gulping, I quickly fibbed, "We wanted you two to have some time alone." Goodness gracious, I did _not_ like the look in her eyes. I had seen it before in the eyes of vicious popular girls at school as they came over to antagonize some poor defenseless oddball. Such behavior always angered me, and it did so now. I refused to be bullied by _her_. Not on my life would I let such a thing happen.

"Are you sure?" her face was innocent, far too innocent to be believable. "I thought that maybe there was something going on between you and Berenglorion, if you take my meaning."

I felt my cheeks burn and heard Char choke up behind me.

"Don't be silly, meleth nin," Legolas laughed. "My cousin is just claustrophobic in the caves. He must have the woods, even more than a normal elf."

"Of course, love pumpkin." She batted her eyelashes winsomely. "Besides, who would ever want to be with either of them, especially _her_?"

Scalding tears slid down my cheeks, and to my extreme mortification, I began to tremble uncontrollably. My hands shook; my mouth quivered. I lowered my chin to my sternum, thoroughly defeated by one cruel, piercing remark.

A strong, gentle hand took the reins from me. Another reached slowly up to my face and brushed the tears away. Turning my head a little, I saw my elven friend smiling at me tenderly.

"Be strong," he whispered, patting my shoulder kindly. "Do not let her break you. You are better than this, than her. Just hold on."

I nodded slowly, glad that I had stopped shaking. Legolas and MEKESSG did not notice the short exchange between the two of us, instead laughing together and kissing once more.

"Hannon le," I mumbled to Char as soon as I felt I could trust my voice.

"Le govaded. Never forget your own worth or let yourself be overshadowed by someone else," he advised ruefully in that quiet voice of his.

"What's wrong, love? What happened?"

He gave Hasufel a direction before answering me. "I was Legolas's shadow for decades – until he left for Rivendell, actually. And when he did, I learned anew what it was like to breathe freely, to be my own person. You could say I flourished during his absence. This wasn't Legolas's fault, mind. He neither encouraged nor discouraged my idol worship. He tolerated me and became my friend. Still, I think it would have been better for us had I been pushed away and forced to forge my own character."

"And now?"

"It has been a year." The elf shrugged. "I am prepared to be his friend again."

"But not his shadow."

"No, never again. I have a right to life, just as he does, which is the reason for my objection to MEKESSG. Savvy?"

I grinned. "Me savvy." Good grief, how I liked him! I had been infatuated with more people than I have fingers and toes before this, but with him… Oh, gosh. With Berenglorion, I felt more than infatuation. I felt concern and worry for him, deep curiosity, and an insatiable desire to win his respect. He was my friend, witty, handsome, and sincerely interested in _me_. Not in MEKESSG's little follower and acquaintance. In _me._ It had been so long since that had happened. Everyone on Earth either knew me well enough as it were or didn't care. In Middle-earth, either they just wanted me to behave or neglected to notice me. Even Merry and Pip hadn't asked me about myself or my history. Legolas had, but that was only _after_ MEKESSG was dead and her hold over him gone.

A crushing wave of melancholy struck me then. What if Berenglorion fell under MEKESSG's spell, too, and abandoned me? Could I take that loneliness again, even with Changeling and Hasufel? The answer was no. I had grown too used to friendship and attention. Isolation would be devastating to the self-confidence finally blooming within me. And, Valar curse it, I would cry again.

Suddenly, Hasufel play-reared, and I almost fell off. Thankfully, Char held me on. We all laughed good-naturedly once we were safe on the ground once more. I smiled. Even if only for the moment, the world was green and hopeful again – at least in my heart.

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**Author's Note: All right, so we're getting a bit of fluff. I hope my readers are enjoying reading the story as much as I enjoy writing it. As always, reviews are appreciated, and flames and criticisms will be used for what they are meant for: making this story and my others better. Thanks for taking the time out of your undoubtably busy lives to read.**

**Your dedicated  
**

**Authoressinhiding  
**


	10. A Lost Temper

**Disclaimer: I own nothing… absolutely nothing, as per usual.**

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Happily, my good mood lasted for the rest of the ride. The credit for this goes mostly to Changeling. She took to chasing Arod and jumping in the air trying to catch hold of MEKESSG's shoe. She never gave up, even when that bratty little word-I-can't-say attempted to kick her. The young dog just barked, obviously thinking it a game.

The farther we got into the forest, the more Berenglorion changed. He seemed to grow up and become younger at the same time. His head came up, his movements made no noise to my mortal ears, and his eyes looked at once both sterner and clearer. This change in him interested me far more than the undoubtedly questionable behavior of Legolas and MEKESSG. Their flirtations grew steadily more and more serious, and to be frank, it bored me out of my skull. I could read a badly written smutty romance novel any old day – not that I ever had – and did not appreciate one being acted out in front of my very eyes.

"Not far now," the elf said softly, reaching around me to stroke Hasufel on the neck. "You have a good horse, Candorien. He accepts you."

"He isn't mine," I corrected automatically. "Hasufel technically belongs to the King of Rohan, who lent him to me."

"Did he say for how long?" He, like me, was fastidiously avoiding looking in Arod's direction.

"Er, no, but – "

"Then his is yours." The elf patted me on the shoulder. "You should be very happy."

I twisted my neck around to give Char a skeptical look. He merely lifted one eyebrow coolly. If this was an example of Berenglorion's honor code… well, can you say pirate?

"I am." I messed with Hasufel's ears, not thinking about the consequences. He half-reared. Berenglorion grabbed for me as I slid, but it was too late. I toppled over sideways and hit the ground with a thud. Immediately, everything went black.

When I awoke, Changeling was standing above me trying to lick my face off.

"Mmph!" I protested, propping myself up on my elbows. "Gerroff me, you scabrous dog. Off!"

She kept licking, going for my eyes and mouth now."

"Changeling! Get off now! Merde! Somebody help me! This dog's taken a fancy to me innards! Help!"

A pair of vivacious green eyes appeared over Changeling's back.

"Oh, is the wittle bwaby having twouble?" Mary Elizabeth Katrina Ellen Sara Susana Greenhow asked far too sweetly by half.

"Help," I panted, out of breath. "Please."

She laughed, and it was not a nice sound. "No, I don't think I will. Puppy, eat her."

Changeling looked up at her disdainfully and with an air of extreme aloofness, trotted away.

"Thanks, love," I called to her retreating back. "Now I really do need a bath. Yuck." I wiped my dog-saliva covered face on my tunic.

"You are disgusting!" MEKESSG shrieked and ran off.

Watching her go, I took note of my surroundings for the first time. We were in a shallow cave encircled with trees. A small clearing stretched out perhaps ten feet before the deep forest began. The horses, free from saddle and pack, grazed picketed in it. Changeling had gone over to sit by them. MEKESSG tripped lightly across the grassy sward and called in her sweetest voice, "Meleth, mellon, she's awake!"

_Oh, great,_ I thought. Sitting completely up, I pulled the cloak off myself – noting that it was Berenglorion's as I did so. My fan-girly urges took hold of me, and I held it to my nose and inhaled deeply. It smelled of lavender and horses and something else I couldn't quite put my finger on. It reminded me of elvish song and cold, clear nights under the stars and was altogether pleasant. Resisting the urge to lie down and snuggle under the cloak again – it _was_ very soft – I got up and folded it instead. My weapons and pack lay in a pile with everyone else's belongings.

"You're awake." Berenglorion strode quickly over to me, followed at a distance by Legolas and _Her_. He put a hand on my shoulder and stared down at me concernedly. "Are you all right? When you didn't wake, we feared you had been grievously hurt."

"Hardly. I just forgot how to tumble and hit hard." I patted his arm reassuringly. "Don't freak out now, Char. I am perfectly fine. How long was I out?"

"An hour or so," Legolas remarked, looking bored. "You must have really hit hard."

"Yeah." I wincing, feeling a large knot on the back of my head. "It has been far too long since anyone made me practice how to take a fall. Ow. What time is it? I'm hungry."

MEKESSG glared at me. Legolas massaged his temples.

"What?" Berenglorion looked confused. Poor kid. "What's wrong?"

"It is three o'clock in the afternoon, Candorien," Legolas groaned, still at his temples. "And you are _always_ hungry. She has the stomach of a hobbit, Berenglorion. What she'll eat, you wouldn't believe."

I stuck out my lower lip and tried to look pitiful. "Surely you wouldn't deny me food."

"I wouldn't bet on it," MEKESSG muttered. "You need to lose some weight. Food won't help you do that."

"Legolas," I pleaded.

"Leggykins." She batted her eyelashes.

"Legolas."

"Leggie-poo."

Berenglorion made gagging noises. I felt like doing the same.

"Legolas," he joined me in pleading.

"Leggie, darling." She was wrapping an arm around his waist, leaning against him. Pulling his chin towards her, she kissed him passionately. Char clapped a hand over my eyes, and I did the same for him. Honestly, the sound effects were bad enough without my having to watch it!

After about five minutes of kissing noises and giggles – minutes in which Berenglorion's hand was firmly planted over my eyes – there came a soft sucking noise as they broke apart. Berenglorion lightly pushed my hand away, removing his a moment later.

MEKESSG was standing with Legolas, her hands roaming all over him. His were doing the same. It was disgusting, and I wanted to get out of there.

My respect for Legolas was dissipating, giving way to cold contempt and disdain. Sure, he was under _her_ spell. But it wasn't as if he couldn't bloody fight it! Aragorn loved Arwen, and as far as I know, they never did anything unchaste before their marriage. Of course, I'm not at all their confidante on mischievous and unruly behavior. No one goes to me for advice like that. It simply isn't done. They just tell me what to do and go on with their lives. It doesn't rankle – at least not anymore. Not that much, anyways. All this reflection passed through my head in a second, which was all the time it took for Berenglorion to get stoked up.

"Legolas Thranduilion, what is wrong with you?" He marched over to the two of them and shoved them apart in his fury. "Acting like a patron of a $#&!" He said a word I can't repeat, but it rhymed with 'sore mouse', if you must know. I leave the rest to your imaginations. "What has gotten into you?" He shoved Legolas again and then slapped him across the face. Hard. Char raised his hand to hit MEKESSG, but my friend just couldn't do it. Both MEKESSG and Legolas looked nervous – afraid even – as he stepped back, breathing heavily.

"Come, Candorien. You and I are leaving this filth." Berenglorion took me by the hand and pulled me out of the cave, accepting his cloak from me. I was the only one to see him use it to wipe the tears of rage from his eyes.

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**Author's Note: Yes, I know, another chapter. I'm updating rather quickly, aren't I? As always, reviews are appreciated muchly, mates, and flames will be used to roast marshmallows for s'mores.**


	11. Secret Hideaway

**Shiera – I do try, but 'tis very hard with the busy life I lead. Never have time to update.**

**Slayer3 – But if I killed her, what would we do for the rest of the story?**

**Just Me – Glad you enjoyed it. Once again, sorry for my slow updates.**

**Captain – I know. I seem to be doing well with the whole writing-chapters-to-fit-Ames's- music-thing. I shall try to do as well in the future.**

**Hippie Jade – Poor Char is right. Those two would be enough to make anyone sick.**

**Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing and no one save the OC's. And MEKESSG's for sale. Any takers? Thought not.**

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Berenglorion bustled me over to the horses, alerting Changeling with a whistle. The elf carelessly hopped up on Hasufel and pulled me up after.

"Hold onto my waist."

Following his orders, I buried my face against him, and we were off through the forest. I had no idea where we were going, and neither had Hasufel, but Berenglorion was sure of his destination, and only a quick gallop there could soothe his apparently agitated nerves. During the ride, not a word was said, though often I wanted to console him but thought better of it.

When we finally reached our destination, it shocked me. I'd imagined some idyllic green clearing with a bright, sparkling stream. Silly me. Instead, Berenglorion had led us to a small copse of gnarled tress and bushes. After tying Hasufel to a conveniently placed branch with his dangling picket rope, he pushed aside a cluster of brambles to reveal a gaping hole the size of Changeling only wider. He crept through first, and Changeling ran in after. I was left alone to squirm and wiggle my way in, poking myself with the brambles several times in the process. When I was halfway through, my elf friend grabbed my wrists and pulled me the rest of the way in.

It was a small hollow, made from branches and vines, flowers and thorns. Berenglorion and I had to sit cross-legged with Changeling stretched out between us. We stared at the ground, lost in our own thoughts. Finally, he broke the silence.

"Eru," he whispered, head in his hands, elbows on his knees. "Eru, I hate them." His voice was quiet, his eyes closed in meditation. "Her for seducing my friend, Legolas for allowing it to happen. How could he do this? How could he _become_ this?" He sat in thought a while longer and then turned to me. "Candorien, what are we to do?"

The complete helplessness in his voice bothered me exceedingly. So did the fact that he had asked me for help. _He _was a grown elf. _I _was an insane teenager with obsessive habits and interests. _I _was supposed to ask him for help, not the other way around! Besides, I had no ideas that didn't involve murder, torture, and sporks. You really don't want to know about the sporks. Trust me on this one.

He stared across at me expectantly, and I couldn't let him down.

"We could kill her."

"No. They'd kill us."

"What if we didn't get caught?"

"We would. You aren't an expert at sneaking past elves."

"So we've agreed my proposition is sound in principle, and now we're just haggling over price."

"What?"

"Oh, never mind. You wouldn't understand." Then again, no one would unless they knew _Dead Man's Chest_ as well as I did, and I'll bet a pound to a penny that no one in Middle-earth did. Except maybe MEKESSG I still didn't know her past and needed to find out. Soon.

"Are you sure of that?"

"Eh? Oh, yeah, yeah, I'm quite sure. Back on topic. So, can I kill her?"

"No."

"Thought not," I muttered. "Then I'm out of ideas."

Berenglorion sighed. "I cannot let you murder, Candorien."

"Oh, aye." I brightened suddenly. "Would you kill her for me, then?"

"No."

I sighed. "Why ever not?"

"Because it is against the king's law. Can you not think of anything legal?"

"Char, Char, Char. How long have you known me?"

"Less than a week."

"Oh, yeah, good point. Forgot that; it seems as if I've known you for ages."

The elf smirked. "Must be my charm and dashing good looks."

"Yeah…no. Don't even go there. Well, anyways, less than a week is still long enough to learn that my ideas are hardly ever legal."

He snorted quietly. "I'll not argue with that."

We sat in peaceful silence a while longer. Changeling and I finally dozed off, but Berenglorion still sat against the wall of vegetation and thought. The last sight I had before falling asleep was of the elf sighing and looking depressed.

* * *

"Candorien… Candorien…"

"Stop it, I'm sleeping. Leave me alone," I mumbled.

"Candorien… Candorien…" the voice called again.

"Shut yer piehole, ye scabrous dog," I growled. "Or I shall let my fell beast eat ye."

"I am not a dog, Candorien. Now wake up."

"No!" I didn't even know who this person was, but I was _not_ going to get up.

"Candorien!"

I quietly ignored the person. Habitual teenager sleeper secret #1: If in doubt, pretend you can't hear them.

"Candorien!"

Still I made no noise.

"Candorien!"

No reply.

Wham! Something hard slapped me right across the bahookey.

With a scream of primal rage, I rolled over and sat up. Berenglorion was crouched in front of me, looking very smug. Too smug, if you ask me. I simply cannot stand smug elves, though I somehow manage to do so often enough.

"Did you have to do that?" I asked, forming a plan for my revenge and getting to my feet at the same time. I banged my head on the roof of the … hidey-hole and quickly crouched down again, rubbing my sore noggin.

"Of course," he replied languidly.

"But why? How could you be so cruel to your poor little friend?" I gave him my best aww-I'm-so-small-and-don't-you-feel-sorry-for-me look. As usual with elves/wizards/men of great valor, it didn't work.

"Because."

"Because?" I hated it when people did this to me, not telling me the answers and not even giving a good excuse.

"Because you were on my nerves." Char crawled out of the cozy nook.

"Me? On your nerves? How? All I was doing was sleeping," I retorted.

"You were awake," he called through the hole. "Come on, Changeling. Besides, you knew you were being annoying."

"Lord love a duck, Char!" I was out now, glaring up into those laughing eyes.

Unfortunately for me, the eyes weren't the only things laughing. Char started to chuckle and soon was full on laughing in my face.

"Chareth Jim Bob Montgomery, stop laughing at me!" I kicked him violently in the shins. It did nothing to help my cause, for upon hearing my new name for him, he fell to rolling on the ground, having, literally, fits of laughter.

"Fine!" I sniffed, turning away from him. "The others and I will leave you." I marched over to Hasufel – who was looking elegantly bored – untied him. "Changeling, come here. We are going now."

"Do you know how to get back?" Berenglorion asked, finally silencing his laughter as I mounted and wrapped the picket rope about my hand.

"No," I replied sheepishly.

"Good." He leapt up behind me, wrapping his arms about my waist. "Then I can show you."

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**Author's Note: I'm sorry this took me so long to update, but I have been really busy and yeah. Sorry. As always, reviews are appreciated, and flames will be used on Sues. Thank you.**


	12. Marching, Music, and Dancing

**Captain – Believe it or not, mate, you were absolutely right. A bahookey is a rump.**

**Slayer 3 – What was that thought again now? I'm completely confused.**

**Just Me – So long as you don't actually die of laughter…that could be a problem.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. As always… as usual. WHY?**

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We rode slowly back through the forest, speaking lightly of trifles: the weather in Gondor (my fault) and the person toilette habits of Thranduil (again, my fault. I have to admit I was interested in this one). Laughing and joking, we soon fell into the same easy rhythm I had with all my good friends. I teased him; he teased me back. We shared personal experiences and random bits of information. But not once did we mention MEKESSG or Legolas. It was a silent taboo not in the least worth breaking.

By the time we got back to the clearing and cave, Legolas and MEKESSG had a fire going and were roasting a haunch of meat. Both stiffened when they met Berenglorion's cold eyes, but as he turned aside and ignored them, they relaxed. My friend dismounted and disappeared into the caves, leaving me to put up Hasufel. I didn't mind – there was little to do and being with horses calmed me. While I tended to my gelding, the others went about treating one another very coolly indeed.

Supper was eaten in silence, broken only by Changeling's begging whines and my whispered rebuttals. We sat apart from the others. I watched Legolas and MEKESSG from the corner of one eye and Berenglorion out of the other. He was still giving the others the cold shoulder – though I couldn't see how it was working. Nibbling on the piece of venison Legolas had handed me earlier, I pouted. Something was missing, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Wrinkling my nose, I took another bite and thought. Everything seemed to be as I wanted (aside from the argument, but such paltry things never bothered me). I was in Middle-earth with an undoubtedly cute guy, and no one was telling me what to do. What was missing? Perturbed, I bit my venison again and unconsciously began to hum Josh Groban.

And then I knew what it was I'd been missing. Thing was, after I woke up from my coma, music became a very big part of my life. I threw myself into playing flute and took up alto saxophone for jazz band. I went to band camp and memorized that season's show music with scary speed. When I wasn't playing music, I listened to my Walkman or iPod practically nonstop. Music mattered to me. A lot.

Grinning now my problem was solved, I stood, letting Changeling lick my fingers, and crammed the rest of the venison into my mouth. I chewed vigorously as I walked into the cave, Changeling trotting at my heels. In our haste to leave earlier, I had forgotten my flute. Swallowing at last, I wiped my hands on my trousers and squatted down by the leather case. Carefully, I undid the clasp and pulled my flute out. Placing my fingers over the holes, I ran through a couple of scales and smiled to myself

_The freshman's still got it._

Changeling yipped softly at me.

"You sure you want that?"

She barked again.

"Allrighty then. I can never refuse you." Grinning, I drew a deep breath and began to play "Fog Bound" while doing an 8-5 step. Believe it or not, I found marching band fun. Lots of fun.

The others all stared at me as I came marching out, and I could barely keep from laughing. Legolas's mouth was dragging the ground, MEKESSG looked both aghast and annoyed, and Berenglorion was smirking. Waggling my eyebrows, I continued to play and march box drills until the show (playing in my head, of course) was over.

They were still staring at me. With surprising dignity, I took a seat on a tree stump and looked at them expectantly.

"Could you play a dance tune?" Legolas asked after a short silence, eager and sheepish at the same time.

It was the work of a moment to flick through my mental library and pick something nice. "Of course."

Legolas nodded to MEKESSG and beckoned for her to rise. She came to him, and they waited for my music.

Taking a shuddering breath, I set my flute to my lips and played.

_Oh Danny Boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling,_ sang my flute – wordless of course – but no less sweet.

Legolas and Mary Elizabeth Katrina Ellen Sara Susana Greenhow just stood still and looked confused.

Chuckling, Berenglorion came over to me. "Something a bit faster, I think," he whispered in my ear.

I slammed into the Virginia reel, stomping my feet in rhythm.

The supposed dancers still looked befuddled. Berenglorion started shaking convulsively, holding his ribs as he laughed.

"Something they can actually dance to, Candorien," he wheezed.

_Oh,_ I thought, and the mental librarians went careening through the music files again. Finally, I came up with an old waltz my band director used to love (that was _before_ the tubas mangled it beyond all recognition, mind). Glad I finally knew what the hey was going on, I began the waltz.

Legolas and MEKESSG started to dance, his arm lightly about her waist, her hand on his shoulder. With a one-two-three, one-two-three, they spun about the clearing. The silly elf behind me stopped laughing long enough to watch them dance. She twirled out and then in again, looking more happy than I'd ever seen her – which was somewhat worrying. Legolas was grinning like the lovestruck fool he was.

Watching them laugh and flirt, I was struck with the insatiable desire to join in with them, but of course I couldn't. I can dance to unheard music, but few others can. It's a gift, if you will, but one that is seldom found in the normal population of Middle-earth. Berenglorion saw, perhaps, the way my eyes kept flitting from the dancers to my flute to the dancers and so on, for at the end of the waltz he took my hand and pulled me up, tossing my flute to Legolas.

The elf caught it in one fluid movement, looking somewhat apprehensive.

"Play that happy tune you were composing before, well, before…"

"Before I left?" Legolas examined the flute carefully and with quite a bit of nostalgia. "Yes, I suppose." He gave the flute a little practice run, going from the very low notes to the very high ones with ease. "Do you remember the dance, clumsy cousin?" he teased.

"Of course, finicky flautist," Berenglorion countered. "Candorien… come on."

All nerves, I placed one hand in this and upon direction put the other on his shoulder.

"Ready?" Legolas murmured, his eyes on the flute.

"Whenever you are," my partner assured him.

Legolas nodded and began to play briskly. It was a happy tune, but her and there one heard sad, melancholy notes. As soon as the music began, Berenglorion moved, guiding me along in the steps of a dance I had never before attempted – or even seen! But the elf was a good dancer and leader, and so we glided about the clearing with no troubles. The song was slow and in 6/8 – or so my band-obsessed mind deduced.

I didn't want the dance to end. The music was so slow, so bittersweet. It reminded me of Moonlight Sonata as I'd once heard it. We had been on a family vacation and were staying in an ancient, grand hotel in Washington. My parents and siblings were in the gift shop, and I was wandering the lounge of the hotel. A piano player sat in the corner, and I listened as I roamed. One of his songs was Moonlight Sonata, and I sat entranced throughout the entire piece, he had played with such emotion and feeling. Legolas's music was like that, and I reveled in it. That night in the clearing, dancing with Berenglorion, I would have given my soul for it never to end.

* * *

**Author's Note: Sorry it took me so long to update. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. As always, reviews are appreciated, and flames will be used for the memorial pyre to celebrate Denethor's death day! Yay! Oh, yes, and I will try to update sooner than last time.**

**Navaer an si,**

**Authoressinhiding **


	13. Llamas

**Cap'n – That show sounds so cool! I wish ours could have been a bit like that. This year I've made up me mind to have fun, no matter how much effort it takes.**

**Just Me – You know, if my updates shock people that much, maybe I should update more. Does this count as soon enough for ye?**

**Disclaimer: I own Candorien and the Sue. That be about it. Oh, yeah, and Char. Can't be forgetting him.**

* * *

When the song was finally over, I curtsied (hard to do in pants) first to Berenglorion and then to Legolas.

"Love pumpkin, that was lovely," MEKESSG simpered, throwing her arms around him.

"Thank you for the dance," Berenglorion murmured, an impish look in his gray eyes.

"I love you, too, meleth nin." Legolas kissed her, throwing my flute to me while doing so.

Surprisingly, I caught it. Avoiding the make-out session in front of us, I bowed to Berenglorion again and said in my best Gimli-voice, "Sir, may I have this dance?"

He quirked an eyebrow and then nodded. "Of course, dear madam," the elf squeaked, and he tried to take my hand.

"Pfft." Pushing him away, I linked one arm through his and tried to teach him how to do-si-do. It didn't work. By the time I finally gave up, we were collapsed on top of one another, laughing our heads off for no reason. When Legolas and MEKESSG finally turned around to look at us, the shocked looks on their faces sent us off in peals of giggles. Yes, elves giggle. A very funny noise it is, too. It was really quite dark before we got control of ourselves.

With quiet "goodnights", Berenglorion and I left the other two. He took me inside the cave and showed me several bunks cut into the walls.

"Here." He tossed me that wonderful-smelling cloak of his. "I reckon you'll need this. Nights out here can be cold for mortals."

"Thanks."

"No problem." Clambering into his own bunk, he suggested I do the same.

With a quick nod, I pulled off my shoes, weapons, and tunic, leaving them in a pile on the floor. So what if he saw me in my undershirt? Trust me, there wasn't much to see… that thing was thick. Tumbling into bed, I covered myself with both cloaks.

"Night, Char."

"Shh. I'm meditating."

"Don't you dare go…"

"Ohmmmm."

"I hate mantras," I groaned.

"What?"

But before I could answer, I was fast asleep, wrapped in Berenglorion's cloak and dreaming of … well, never you mind.

* * *

There are a few things in the world it is pleasant to wake to. Quiche Lorraine, for example, or the kiss of your lover. Also enjoyable are the whuffing of a mustang and the voice of Josh Groban. But it is positively murder to be woken by the off-key whistling of a person you hate. Have I ever mentioned that MEKESSG simply _cannot_ whistle?

"Gurgle spiggle magga snort." Sleepy teenager for 'not getting up'.

"She won't get up!" said a shrill voice. Then came more whistling.

"Spigga goggle boogala!" Stop whistling.

"She won't get up!" More whistling.

"Google boogala ahallama!" Stop whistling or die.

"Candorien, get up!" The whistling again.

"Llama!" Llama.

"Get up!" Even more whistling.

"Llama hakaloot!" Llama goes swimming.

"Up!" Again with the whistling.

"Llama abrino!" Llama goes for a walk.

"Get! Up! Now!" Whistling.

"Llama sicantos." Llama see whistling girl.

"Candorien!" Whistling still.

"Llama eat you!" Exactly what it says.

With that cry, I sprang from the bunk, scattering cloaks and tripping over my piled belongings. I kept from falling by grabbing MEKESSG around the neck. She stumbled and gasped, but somehow remained graceful.

"What on earth did you do that for?" she growled as I bent over to grab a change of clothes from my pack.

"You were whistling," I accused, tossing her my cloak. "Hold this up. I've gotta change."

She complied, grumbling all the while. She was still grumbling when I was buckling on my weapons and brushing my hair. I went to go saddle Hasfuel (at Char's suggestion), and she followed behind me, complaining.

"Llama eat you," I told her forcefully after tacking up and turning to find her inches from my face. "Llama eat you."

"Morning, Candorien," Legolas called from over by Arod.

"Llama!" I yelled happily, waving.

The elf laughed and ignored me. MEKESSG still looked sour. She obviously didn't get llamas.

_Llama here, llama there, llama llama everywhere! I want a llama. I could feed it and wash it and make someone else clean up its llama equivalent of fewmets…yes, I would take very good care of my llama…maybe Thranduil will get me one. Hmm. Now where is Char?_

"Ready to go?"

"Aaaahhh!" I 'm not a very calm person. I squeal. A lot. Especially when surprised. And I hadn't known Berenglorion was behind me. So I squealed… like a slug. Like the ones underneath Lorien, in fact. Scary thought. Maybe I was turning into a Lorien-slug. Shoving all slug horrors aside, I remonstrated the elf behind me. "Char, don't scare me like that."

"What did I do?" Berenglorion looked affronted (a sight nearly as funny as the sound of an elf's giggle).

"You surprised her," Legolas said sympathetically, patting his cousin on the shoulder. "With Candorien, you have to announce your presence if you move behind her. Like a skittish colt." He gave me a strange look. "A _very_ skittish colt."

"A weird one," MEKESSG cut in, glaring at me.

"Danke." I don't speak half the languages I use. I just commandeer words on a whim. Yes, I am a word pirate! But going on…

"So, what's the plan?" I asked at length, inspecting my nails carelessly. I really needed to stop biting them off when they grew too long.

"Ada mentioned a feast tonight," murmured Legolas.

Char's whole stance immediately changed at these words. His ears seemed to move independently and turned towards Legolas – and I had though only horses and other four-legged beasties could do that. His eyes darted apprehensively about the clearing. I laughed inwardly, glad to know I wasn't the only one keen on avoiding social events.

"We have to go, Leggy-weggy," MEKESSG purred, stroking his cheek. "We just have to! I'll die if we don't."

As the sappiness had now reached a new level, I would have been perfectly happy with not going and watching Her die. Would have been rather interesting, actually. Berenglorion looked sick, but Legolas just stood there and let her touch him. He didn't even show the slightest bit of displeasure or panic or revulsion. His eyes were slightly glazed over, however, and his breath came in hitches. Not good.

"So you two socialites have to be oohed and aahed over at some fancy schmancy party, eh? Bor-ing." I cast my eyes about for Changeling. It was about time for some mischief I couldn't be blamed for. I really needed a good laugh, especially if they were going to force me to the feast… which knowing MEKESG would probably include a dance.

"We have to go to the feast," Legolas mumbled in monotone.

Berenglorion wilted even more. I had to do something, but nothing came to mind except a song – and the song had to wait. It would not reach its full potency – or me my full hyperness – for a while yet.

"Well, if we have to go," I sighed at last, jabbing Char in the side with my elbow, "let's go."

"Aye," the elf murmured, waking from his stupor. "Let us be off. Hoy! Changeling."

The black and white hound came flying out of nowhere, and we mounted. As the four of us and our beasts left the clearing, I threw back my head and sang, "Here's a llama, there's a llama, and another little llama…"

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**Author's Note: I know the chapter's a wee bit short, but I thought you'd enjoy it all the same. I just had to bring in the Llama Song. Hope you'll all forgive me... or laugh your heads off. Either way, I'm good with it. As always, reviews are appreciated, and flames will be used to create plot loopholes in AWE. **

**'Til next time,**

**Authoressinhiding**


	14. Ride and Race

**Cap'n – Aye, thou art surely a pirate. But I am an authoress, and I prefer that.**

**Just Me – Llamas are very fun. Funny fun doodle dum! And I've seen way too many Animaniacs episodes. 'Scuse me.**

**Slayer3 – You really ought to have run up to the Will Turner-ish guy. I really want a picture.**

**Disclaimer: All is owned by big, rich companies. Not by poor, waitressing authoresses. – sniff sniff – **

* * *

Throughout my experiences in life, I have noticed that you normally get two reactions with the Llama Song: one, the laugh-till-you-fall-over, and two, the glare-at-the-singer-till-he/she-gets-depressed. Three guesses as to which reaction MEKESSG and Legolas went with. Berenglorion just poked me until I turned 'round. 

"What's a llama?" he asked with a grin.

"A fuzzy cloven-hoofed, three-stomached beastie," I replied happily. "I want one, but they never let me get one."

"Ah."

After that, he just held on tight to my waist and laughed till he cried each time I sang the Llama Song. This happened often, for every time Legolas and MEKESSG started talking romantically or even seriously, I burst out about llamas. There's a reason all my friends hate that song. I love it, but they just don't get my llama joy. No one ever does. Around the fifth time I sang the Llama Song, the elf behind me nearly fell off for laughing so hard.

"This is either madness or brilliance," he murmured in my ear, panting somewhat from all his laughter.

"It's remarkable how often those two traits coincide," I quoted back at him.

My friend laughed again, shaking. I knew his hold on my waist was the only thing keeping him on.

"Where do you come up with all this…" he paused, searching for the right word.

"Insanity? Randomness? Energy? Weird music and quotes?"

"Insanity, I think. I've never met anyone quite like you. It's very, er, interesting. And quite educational."

I smiled. "Just think: this isn't even me at full strength. At home… at home…"

"Yes?"

I focused on blocking out my quiet homesickness. "At home my friends and I are always being random. We quote movies and books all the time, sing at the most inopportune moments, and…" I paused for a moment, recalling the last sleepover we'd had at Sally's, and then continued on quickly, "and best of all, we're never predictable, really. It's so much fun to surprise people. I miss them."

Berenglorion's lips curved into a sad smile. "You must really love your home," he commented softly, almost ruefully.

"What, Char? Do you not love yours?" I asked worriedly, hoping I wasn't going to go into therapist-mode soon.

"Sometimes it does not quite fit me, and I do not quite fit it," the elf replied enigmatically wit ha shrug. "Do not vex yourself, Candorien. I have always managed things by myself. You need not leap to my rescue, young one."

Nothing was said for a while after. I felt the rebuke and decided not to say anything lest I lose my temper. Quickly, Char sank into a reverie, and I was forgotten for the time being. Not that I minded, for Hasufel was all the company I really needed. Changeling had disappeared into the undergrowth again.

"How are you, boy?" I whispered.

One dark gray ear swiveled towards me, and Hasufel picked up his head an inch or so.

_Fine, _he seemed to say.

"I love you, Hass." Slowly, I reached down a hand to stroke his warm neck underneath his mane. "I wish you could really talk. Sometimes I feel so alone, even here." This last was murmured under my breath so quietly even I barely heard it.

But he seemed to understand, whickering in that husky tone of his.

Encouraged, I went on. "I feel so unsure, boy, so confused. But you'll help me, won't you?"

Hasufel tossed his head in the air and picked up speed.

I laughed and pulled the leather thong off my own hair. It blew in the wind, whipping about my face as well as Char's, startling him to life.

"Noro lim, Hasufel, noro lim!" I cried, and we shot away past Arod.

Unable to resist the challenge, Legolas urged his mount on, and the race began.

Both horses were well matched, and their burdens weighed about the same. Arod was the smaller of the two, but also the fierier. Each time one drew ahead, the other surged forward until they were at least even.

Legolas and MEKESSG urged Arod on, calling for more speed and heart, but I did not bother to do so. I merely crouched in the saddle, Berenglorion's hand on my shoulder, and held on for dear life. Hasufel didn't need me to run. It was all him during that race. I think he just loved to run, to run and be free… Perhaps we were the same in that regard, both of us wild and young, dreaming of freedom and flight. The elf behind me whooped with impish glee as we nearly missed a branch and sent leaves skittering on the light breeze until they fell to the forest floor.

Suddenly he was standing in the stirrups – though my feet had been in them a moment before – and challenging Legolas to a competition of horsemanship. It was all I could do to drag him down by his trouser leg and tell him that if he behaved thusly again, I would instruct Hasufel to give him a little tumble.

"Why don't you ever behave?" I asked mournfully.

The elf mussed my hair up with a cheery grin. "Because I am not a sober mortal. I am a merry elf. And my lord has not forbid me such behavior, lady. I am the escort of a teenaged mortal who is not half as prim as the world would have her be. We are young, and the forest is ours. Why should we behave?"

I smiled despite myself. "True indeed, my friend."

By this time, even Legolas and MEKESSG had tired of the race, and we were nearing the king's caves. The ball was in a few hours, and I felt doom approaching.

Knowing MEKESSG and those she was wont to associate with, I was going to be stuffed into a gown meant to show off my, erm, assets, of which I did not have much of, thankfully. Upon which stuffing I would pout – okay, throw a temper tantrum. I would then be presented with something more or less acceptable and be forced to eat like a bird _all_ evening. Not quite my idea of fun. Not by a long shot. Judging by the way Berenglorion kept trying to squeeze my eyeballs out of my skull – he was holding on rather tight – I wasn't the only one a wee bit antsy.

MEKESSG smiled as the horses trotted up to the stable. Gracefully, Legolas dismounted and offered her a pale hand, which she accepted. He carelessly passed Arod's reins to a groom, and they glided off to the caves. Char finally released his hold on me and slid off Hasufel's back. He landed on his feet but still looked like a pile of wet spaghetti.

That elf had more nerves that I'd ever thought possible in one of his race. He was at once so independent yet so needy, so familiar and yet so unpredictable. The elf puzzled me, and said puzzlement was quite refreshing. With Legolas and MEKESSG there were no hidden depths – not that I could see, anyhow. It was quite nice to have somebody unfathomable around, like Aragorn and Boromir had been. Of course, they were a bit more … here, more down-to-earth, and less … alien.

"Candorien… Candorien … Candorien!"

"Huh?"

Berenglorion was standing by Hasufel's shoulder, looking up at me.

"What?"

"You fazed out."

Oh. _That _didn't happen often. Oh, well. With a grin, I jumped from the saddle and poked the elf in the ribs. Something told me the rest of the day was going to be … interesting.

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**Author's Note: Another short chapter, yes, and I really am quite sorry. I shall try to make the next one rather longer, but I cannot promise anything . As always, reviews are appreciated, and flames will be used to make s'mores.**

**And now to reintroduce you to the three denizens of the Authoress's room. Legolas, Will, and Erik! They'll be feeding plot bunnies and ironing my clothes and helping me cause chaos in all fandoms. Huzzah!**

** Navaer an si,**

**Authoressinhiding  
**


	15. Shineys, Corsets, and Dancing Lessons

**Slayer3 – And now, after having related the story and given me no picture, I declare you a meaner. So hah.**

**Shadowed Ice – Anything where one must sit still and behave is boring. Unless one has something to keep one entertained.**

**Disclaimer: Look! It's a flying sea turtle with a purple banner!  
F.S.T.: – stare –  
Banner: LORD OF THE RINGS BELONGS TO TOLKIEN AND HIS ASSOCIATES… NOT YOU!  
AiH: But… but… but…. – sigh – never mind.**

* * *

After settling both geldings in their stalls, Berenglorion escorted me to my chamber, doing his best to keep me from a panic attack. It wasn't much help. I was far too nervous for even _him_ to calm me down. I hate being confined, and most fancy dresses tend to do just that.

"Don' make me, don' make me!" In a repeat of my panic attack on Aragorn's flagship, I rugby-tackled the elf. My legs were wrapped around his waist, and I had a stranglehold on his neck.

"Candorien, get off. Now."

"No. Me want shiney."

Don't ask where that came from. I was tired of having to watch kissy-kissy moments and of being overlooked. Besides, I really did like shineys … and I am insane.

"Candorien, get off!"

"SHINEY!"

"I'll whistle…"

I was off before he finished the w-word.

"No whistle," I growled, backing away from him. "No whistle."

Berenglorion sighed. "I honestly don't know what to do with you."

"You could let me go… maybe take me to Dale," I suggested hopefully.

"No time. They'd find out. And besides, we have to deal with the situation at hand. Or had you forgotten?"

For a moment I had. "All right, then. I'll go be a good little debutante and put on my socialite face… without shineys. Happy?"

He studied me for a moment. "I suppose so." His brow wrinkled as he watched me, as if he wondered where my random insanity of but a few moments previous had gotten to.

"It comes, and it goes." I waved a hand dismissively. "Sometimes it feels as if a rabid bunny has taken over my brain. Yeah, I'm just weird like that." I smiled up at him sheepishly.

The elf patted me on the shoulder awkwardly.

"I'm not a rabid bunny," I hurried to point out. "I promise I'm not."

That comment startled a laugh out of him, and Berenglorion smiled at me with real warmth this time.

"Go get ready for the feast." He propelled me towards my bedroom door. "I will be back for you in two hours for another quick dancing lesson, all right? And if push comes to shove, tell your maid that you absolutely refuse to wear whatever it is you don't want to wear. Threaten her with… oh, I don't know. But don't feel pressured into wearing anything that makes you feel uncomfortable, all right? You do have the status of lady and can always pull rank."

"Thanks, Char. I'll keep it in mind."

We parted at my door, and I watched him walk away. When he had taken five or ten paces, I called out as a parting shot, "And why are you mothering me so much?"

He just laughed and waved at hand at me over his shoulder without even turning around.

With a world-weary sigh, I went into my room and threw my packs and my body across the bed. It was so soft… probably stuffed with feathers. I knew that if I didn't get up, I would be fast asleep in five minutes, tops.

Unfortunately, before this could happen, the same annoying maid of the day before entered my room with a flounce. She had a pile of dresses in her arms and a bag full of what I suspected to be shoes, makeup, and other unwanted accessories over a shoulder.

Run! My fight-or-flight instinct was kicking it, and it was definitely voting on flight. But I was too late. The elleth had locked the door, and, being underground, I had no windows to scramble out of. I was stuck, and there was nothing for it. I swallowed, trying to calm myself down.

"Hello, er, what is your name by the way?"

She mumbled something long, soft, and complicated.

"Okay. Um, well, why are you here?"

This time she had no trouble expressing herself.

"Strip."

"What?" I squawked.

The elleth rolled her eyes and threw a pink monstrosity at me.

"Put this on."

"Oy!" Somehow I managed to fight my way through the pink circus tent out to the air. "Don't throw things at me!" I wheezed.

"Fine," she sniffed in reply, giving me a calculating look. "Here, give that back. Pink is _not_ your color."

There was no arguing with that – nor did I want to – so I handed the dress over to her, and she looked through the others, doing her best not to touch them overmuch.

"Try this one."

As it was powder blue and simply designed, I didn't argue, just scrambled over to the other side of the bed and wriggled my way into it. Within seconds, she was over there, telling me to stop fidgeting while she tied it up. When she finally finished, I gasped for her to help me out of it.

"I can't breathe!"

"Oh, stop complaining! Do you want to look ugly tonight?"

"No, no," I panted; afraid I was going to asphyxiate. The dress was really tight. Corset tight. "Please just take it off."

"All right, all right, stop your fussing."

I couldn't help it; I moaned with pleasure as soon as that straitjacket was off. The elleth gazed down at me disapprovingly.

"You desire comfort more than style," she observed sternly, as if to do so was a sin of greatest proportions.

"Yeah… got anything, er, pretty that _won't _kill me?"

It was killing my pride to do this, to ask her for help, to admit that I did, for once, want to be pretty. I think the elleth sensed this, for she watched me for a while with pity in her eyes. I really don't like pity, but if I wanted her help and a lovely dress, I was going to have to get over it.

She laced me into dress after dress after dress until I wanted to scream. Barely any of them fit me, and none that did were fashionable enough for her. We were constantly at one another's throats. Only my dislike of pulling rank kept me from doing so.

By the time we reached the thirteenth dress, I was tired and frustrated. The elleth, however, remained calm, merely becoming even more determined with every disappointment. She firmly forced me to slide the dress over my head and to hold still while she fastened the ties. It fit surprisingly well – I could actually breathe.

"This one might do," the elleth said after she'd observed me in the dress for a while. "Good color, brings out your eyes, hides what ought to be hidden, not too brazen about everything else. Here." Grabbing my shoulders, she propelled me over to a floor-length mirror I had never seen in my room before. I was beginning to think she had some kind of super powers. "Look," she ordered.

So I did. It was not at all a bad picture. The dress was a dark stormy blue. It hugged my upper body then flared into a slightly wider skirt at the bottom. It was a soft, linsey-woolsey material and almost as comfortable as my trousers and tunic. The neckline didn't plunge down, but it didn't strangle me either. The elleth tossed me a pair of shoes that matched the dress and pressed gold hoop earrings into my hand.

"Put these on," she ordered, a steely glint in her eyes that brooked no objections.

Meek as a lamb, I obeyed. Okay, so I was beginning to look nice. I was perfectly fine with my appearance and said so. But then the elleth advanced on me, forcing me into a corner.

"You. Need. A. Corset," she said firmly.

I couldn't take it anymore; I cracked. "No, no, no!" I screeched, making a dash towards the door.

The elleth quickly stepped in front of me. "Out of that dress. You need a corset, so step out and I'll lace you into it."

"No corset."

"Out!" She was advancing on me mercilessly, ignoring my pleas. "Out now."

"I refuse to wear a corset."

"Why?" She was even closer now, and I was scared.

"Because they are uncomfortable and unhealthy. I can't. I won't." She had me backed up into a corner, trying to push her away with my hands.

"Let me explain something to you." The elleth suddenly snatched hold of my wrists and dragged me over to the bed. Pushing me down, she ordered me to sit. "With the arrival of Lady Mary Elizabeth Katrina Ellen Sara Susana Greenhow, things have begun to change around here. Starting tonight, a ball will be held every night. Fashion is increasing in importance. As Lady Mary Elizabeth's friend, you are held to a very high standard, especially in how you dress. So you _must_ wear a corset. Do you understand now?"

In a way, I did. For appearance's sake, they wanted me to injure my growing body and wear a bloody corset. This was Mirkwood, for heaven's sake, not medieval Europe! So why was I being coerced into a corset?

"I see," I said at last, my fingers beating a tattoo on the edge of the bed. "Or I think I do. You want me to trade my comfort for style. I am to trade my integrity for popularity. I will not, I repeat, _not_, wear a ruddy corset. Not today. Not ever." _ Not unless I really want to… and I don't, not today, _I added silently. "When will you people learn that I am _not_ going to follow your fashion trends or be a pawn in your courtly games? I'm fourteen, you know. Not thirty. And I do not care about fashion. This dress looks fine without fine without a corset. I look fine without a corset. There will _be_ no corset. Savvy?"

She looked at me with wonder, for never before had I stood up to her so eloquently. I wasn't surprised at her reaction. I could feel anger burning in the back of my eyes, the unconquerable will coursing up and down my spine. I _was_ going to follow my heart, and I was _not_ going to be a doormat. And above all else, I refused to wear a corset. I have a grudge/phobia/complex/thing about them.

"I said, savvy?"

"All right," the elleth sighed, dropping her accessory bag. "You are determined not to do as you're told."

_No duh, Sherlock,_ I thought. _I never do what I'm told, unless I want to. I'm just impossible like that._

When I didn't make any audible response, she went on, "Fine. I suppose you're going to refuse to wear makeup as well?"

"For tonight, yeah. It isn't that important to me."

She sighed. "Are you sure? It would make you look so much more beautiful – the makeup and the corset both."

"No corset."

"All right, all right, no corset. Could I at least fix your hair?"

Her voice sounded so wistful I had to relent, just a little bit.

"Of course," I told her reassuringly, feeling as if I was once again being pushed into maturity, and I didn't quite like it. "In fact, I would love it if you did."

The elleth spent half an hour painstakingly braiding my hair. She would do it up one way and then take it down, running her fingers through my hair to part it. It felt good, having someone else do my hair. My sisters were older and never around, and, well, you just don't braid other people's hair in my day and age. Apparently, it was frequently done in Middle-earth, for when the elleth had finished with my hair, it actually looked nice.

"You sure you don't want makeup?"

"Maybe just a tad."

Having cajoled me into hair and makeup, the elleth tried again with the corset. I said 'no' very firmly and did not back down, even though she told me I could attract much more male attention with the corset. At this point, I was sorely tempted to put it on, but I held to my decision.

_Maybe next time, _said the voice in my head somewhat ruefully. _If it makes us look pretty. If it's … shiny._

_Corsets aren't shiny, _my voice of reason reminded me.

_Says who?_

_Have you ever seen a shiny corset?_

_No._

_Then how do you know that any are?_

_How do you know they aren't?_

_I just do._

_Oh, go blow a gasket. If it's shiny, I wants it._

_Well, leave me out of it._

_I was! You just chose to butt in._

Still, no matter how shiny the corset might be, or how pretty it made me, I wasn't going to wear it. I was going to stick to my guns.

When at last my maid had finished with me, she left, and I began to pace. I couldn't sit down or touch my face or hair, so the boredom was coming on even faster than usual. Of course, pacing could only satisfy me for so long. After a few minutes, I drew my sword and started to fight myself up and down the length of the room. There were no casualties, other than a few smashed fingers and one stubbed toe. My blade swished as it flew through the air, and my arms tried to groan from the weight of it. I stifled their cries and just kept on practicing.

I had but made ten passes about the room when someone grabbed my shoulders. If the king had been anywhere in the vicinity, I would have yelled "Aragorn!" But he was safe and happy in Gondor – I hoped – and I was in Mirkwood.

"Candorien, drop the weapon."

It was Char. I would know his voice anywhere. "Why?"

"Because we have to go to the feast, and something tells me not to trust you overmuch with a sword."

He had a point, so I sheathed my blade, tossed it gently onto the bed, and turned to face him.

The elf was even more handsome than usual, some of his long, dark hair done up in to tiny braids framing his face, the rest tumbling down his shoulders. His tunic was some sort of evergreen brocade, and his trousers were of the same color but a light material, flaring slightly as they went down. A heavy russet brown cloak was draped dramatically over one shoulder, and a white stone gleamed from where it was fixed over his brow.

"Wow."

"You look nice," he said kindly.

"Aw, you really think so?" An almost innocent quoting of Animaniacs.

Berenglorion swept his eyes up and down me again before answering the question. "Of course I really think so… I would not have said it if I did not believe it to be true. Are you ready?"

"Ready for what?"

"Oh, I managed to get a friend – he's somewhat of a minstrel – to play for us. Dancing lessons, remember?'

As a matter of fact, I had forgotten, but I neglected to say so. "Oh, yes, of course. How long do we have?"

"Oh, long enough, if we leave now."

Taking my hand, he pulled me out the door. It wasn't a long walk to his friend's room, and we joked all the way there. I did Legolas and MEKESSG imitations, a malicious gleam in my eye. Berenglorion chuckled then teased me about fighting myself. He had a wicked sense of humor, that elf, and a razor-sharp wit to go with it. It was never safe to be relaxed and sloppy in his presence – you'd never hear the end of it if you did.

The dancing was all right. The elf imparted such age-old wisdom as to just follow his lead, to keep the beat going in my head, and to relax. I couldn't relax. I was just too tense, too nervous.

"Come on, Candorien. Let's try this just one more time." Berenglorion sounded as weary as I felt. I really don't like practicing something I know I'm no good at, especially when the person I'm practicing with is very good. It makes me feel inferior. Finally, though, I got the dance down well enough for both Berenglorion and his friend. With weary sighs, Char and I headed down to the feast, the ball, and our doom.

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**Author's Note: So there you have it, a rather long chapter, if I do say so myself. Enjoy and review as always. I'm sure you will find it pleasing.**

**And now a message from our denizens. Ehem.**

**Will: I'm back! Yay! No more fangirls and dead people and conflicted parents!**

**Legolas: - stare - and they say eternity does odd things to elves.**

**Erik: - listens to Walkman - mmmph**

**So there you have it, the evil things that inhabit my room and mind are back... and I am rather frightened... just so long as they don't try to do any more survival cooking... **


	16. Ball of DOOM

**Emily – Believe it or not, neither did I. It's more of a MEKESSG thing.**

**Ames – There were too shineys! Well, talk of shineys. None of the actual thing. But that shall change… hopefully soon.**

**Inwe – Oh, dear. We really must get them back so we can finally have our get-rid-of-Beckett party. It is long overdue. **

**Disclaimer: Ehem. The captain of the Flying Dutchman will disclaim for me.  
Will: She has no life, no friends, and no Lord of the Rings. Savvy?  
Aih: – blinkstare – Not true! – tackles –  
Will: All right, all right! She has a life, plentiful friends, but still no Lord of the Rings.  
AiH: Fine… I can deal with that.**

* * *

Surprisingly, the feast wasn't near as bad as I'd expected – at least at first. Berenglorion and I were seated at one of the lower tables with other marchwardens and musicians. MEKESSG and Legolas sat together upon the dais, but I made no effort to be near them. It was nice not to be surrounded by glamour queens for a while. 

"So, Berenglorion, tried the new vintage yet?" asked one of the ellyn, slurring his words somewhat as he spoke.

"No, and I think you've had a bit too much, my friend." In another, softer tone, he questioned the others, "How much wine did you let him drink?"

"Oh, not enough for that," they waved their hands merrily at the drunk elf, who had begun to go cross-eyed. "He must have been at the wines before the feast."

Berenglorion laughed, throwing his hands up in surrender. "All right, all right. Just see to it he doesn't snore when he falls asleep." Suddenly he remembered me. "Oh, and this is the Lady Candorien who prefers to – "

"Drop the 'lady'," I cut in. "I don't deserve a title and don't want a useless one."

"Well said," chuckled the drunken ellon. The others just ignored him.

"Candorien. Nice name," commented a determined-looking elleth, taking a dignified sip from her wine goblet. "How do you like Mirkwood? Oh, pardon me, Eryn Lasgalen." She looked a little sheepish, which was rather disconcerting. "I tend to forget things sometimes," she added conspiratorially.

I grinned, much more at ease now. "It isn't as dark as I'd heard, and a lot more hospitable."

One of the other elves heard me and snorted. "Hospitable? Oh, we generally are. I'm supposing you received your information from that party of dwarves a few years back." He shook his head. "They rubbed Thranduil the wrong way, you could say. Neither telling him of their business nor even asking his leave to wander through our realm."

"It wasn't the most _diplomatic_ course of action, to say the least," Berenglorion added dryly. "But our days are happier, now the Shadow is gone."

"Yes," agreed the other ellon.

"But let us talk of lighter things. The cooks have done an excellent job with the venison, don't you think?"

The elves murmured their agreement, and talk continued. It seemed to center mostly on current events in the lands round about: the new king in Dale, trade with the Men now living in the forest, and the new kingdom of elves in the South.

"It is good to be closer to our kin," the determined elleth observed, watching the hall with the wary eyes of a soldier. "Perhaps we shall be better able to fight the long defeat."

I'd only ever head Galadriel call it thus, but apparently with the fall of Sauron the elves had begun to acknowledge the slow beginning of the end. They sounded sad about it, but somehow a bit more accepting than I would have thought.

"Candorien, what do you think?" Berenglorion asked out of the blue.

"Huh?" I hadn't been paying attention to his discussion; someone else was debating the pros and cons of Men in the forest. "What do I think about what?"

"About the relationship between Lady Mary Elizabeth Katrina Ellen Sara Susan Greenhow and the Lord Legolas," the elf informed me, an evil glint in his eye.

I swallowed, not sure if I could trust these elves, but then it didn't really matter, did it? If I was brave enough to share my opinion with one person, then I could do it with several.

"I don't think much of it at all, frankly," I confessed. "After all, she is only seventeen."

"Eru, he's robbing the cradle," muttered one of the ellyn, a slim chap with black hair. Very spiffy. "I thought Legolas had more sense."

"He used to," Berenglorion sighed. "We all know he used to. But then…"

"She came," I filled in, looking down at my dead meal. "She came … he fell in love and everything changed." It was sad. Really sad.

"How exactly did it happen?" the spiffy ellon asked me curiously.

"One crisp October night," I intoned in my storyteller's voice, "two girls found themselves alone, stranded in the Ettenmoors. They were rescued by Elladan and Elrohir, the noble sons of Elrond, who brought them to their father's house. One girl, extremely fair of face and lithe of body, dazzled all. The other, unskilled yet stubborn, was overlooked by all." My voice became darker, bitterer. I still didn't like remembering my griefs and annoyances on that trip. "Both attended the Council of Elrond and were chosen to accompany the Fellowship, against the will of one of the girls." I sighed. "Things went downhill from there. Legolas spent nearly his every moment with the beautiful girl… yet still he held out. Around Moria, he fell in love with her. Ever since then, he's been a ruddy pansy… save when she died and after… he was OK then."

The elves looked at me for a long while after I'd finished. It seemed as if they were all measuring me to some unknown standard. I did my best to ignore them, squaring my chin and continuing on with my meal.

"She'll do," the determined elleth said at last. "She will do. Good job, Berenglorion. You've found the one we need."

My secret plot senses went on a hair-trigger. I leaned back in my chair, deliberately keeping my face inscrutable. It was time for quiet observation.

Berenglorion smiled, looking a little embarrassed, and took a sip of wine. "I really did nothing, Raina. She needed none of my assistance to become as she is. The Lady Mary Elizabeth Katrina Ellen Sara Susana Greenhow has seen to that."

I still had no idea what was going on, but the hints Berenglorion kept dropping were exciting my inquisitiveness. Calmly, I took another bite of venison and listened in with all my eavesdropping prowess.

"She is perfect for the part," the spiffy ellon agreed. "Absolutely perfect."

"Aye," the other elves said as one.

"What's going on?" I asked, rather fed up with all this talking around the point. "What part? And how do you know I'd be willing to participate, anyways?"

This brought all their conversations and subplots to a jerking halt. All of the elves stared at me again. Annoyed, this time I stared back, a sullen death glare firmly planted on my face.

"Tell me what is going on," I commanded in a soft, dangerous voice. "Tell. Me. Now."

"She doesn't need to know," a pale elleth said quickly, giving me a condescending look. "Just give her instructions at the right moment. I'm sure she'll do as she's told."

_Wrong move, fishbelly, _I thought scathingly. _You don't assume things about me or any other person you don't know. Boromir's Rule #2. I could be a spy or a frilly airhead told to fool you. You don't know me._

"I'm sure she will." The determined elleth attempted to hold me with her eyes. I merely scowled back.

"After all, she's only human," muttered another ellon, clearly not meaning for me to hear.

I heard, and the flames of anger rose even higher in my heart. I was used to being underestimated and used by MEKESSG, and to an extent Legolas, but I hadn't expected it from these elves, these soldiers and common folk. I had expected better. Berenglorion hurt me most of all, falling in with the others, not even standing up for me. It was too much for me to take in silence. I erupted.

In a much quieter tone than usual, I began, "You are all mistaken. I will _not_ do as I'm told, especially not by the likes of you, Master Smee." I glared at them all, my heart a complete rock. "Oh, yes, I may be human, I may be mortal, but that does in no way make me inferior to you ruddy elves. Just because I'm fourteen and you're ageless, just because you supposedly hold all wisdom and I'm still in school, just because you are more akin to the Valar than my folk, you still do not have the right to use me as a pawn. I have my own heart and mind. Even MEKESSG and Legolas respect that. Oh, and Berenglorion, you stinking pile of fewmets, stay away from me. I thought I could trust you, but…" I laughed mirthlessly. "Well, let's just say at least my _mortal_ friends take up for me."

With calm dignity I rose and strode from the room, my face an indifferent mask. Many looked up as I passed by but made no attempt to stop me. It was well they did not; for at that moment, I believe I might have done something truly dreadful to make them hurt even more than I did.

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**Author's Note: Hope you enjoy this chapter. As always, reviews are appreciated, and flames will be used to cook pies. Erik believes he has found his true calling as a chef. After the last exploding pastry, however, I beg to differ.**


	17. Running Away

**Emzee – I'm sorry. Maybe if we slept more we would be able to comprehend better… then again, considering my mind, maybe not. All might be made clear in time.**

**Just Me – Comeuppance is a funny thing. I think you'll enjoy what the story has in store, though.**

**Shadow Reader – Yay! One of my unseen denizens is kind enough to show they care. I be happy. **

**H.J. – Because if I end it there, you lot are more likely to review. Savvy?**

**Bobthemuffinman – I wouldn't find it too odd, actually. So many of my readers seem to want romance… not necessarily between those two. Perhaps I shall have to comply.**

**Slayer3 – Will is MINE, and I'll thank you to remember that fact.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Stat.**

* * *

Upon reaching my room, I skinned out of that stupid dress and washed the makeup off my face with cold water. That way no one could tell I was crying. Doing my best not to sob, I pulled on my oldest clothes and gathered my things into two bundles. As soon as that was accomplished, I crept from the room and out to the gates. Within minutes, I was in the stable, tacking up Hasufel.

"We're getting out of here, boy," I muttered, tightening his girth.

The great gray horse regarded me impassively. Changeling nudged my knee, and I looked down at her. Strapped to her back was a bag full of imperishable food, including some kind of cram that wasn't half so good as lembas. A flask had been buckled to her neck. A note was tucked in the strap.

_Heard you were leaving. Hope you return. If you ever find yourself in trouble, come to the kitchens._

_the cook_

I smiled in spite of myself and tucked food and flask into the saddlebags. Opening the stall door, I led Hasufel and Changeling out to the stable's main floor. Without another thought, I swung up and gave my horse a slight nudge in the ribs. He took off at a headlong run, Changeling chasing after us.

_Come on,_ I thought, giving a slight tug on the reins in order to slow him down. _Come on, boy. I can't cry when you run so nobly._

Yes, I was still crying. I had just been let down by my only ally who wasn't an animal. And I'd had a crush on him. It was a wonder I could still move, or would have been, if I weren't so furious.

_Calm down, _I told myself. _This isn't the end of the world. It's just a minor setback._

This partly convinced me not to be so upset, and so I soon urged Hasufel on to a gallop. I had no idea where we were going, but Hasufel seemed to have a sense of purpose. We crashed through the trees in a fairly regular direction, elegantly jumping over the obstacles in our path. It was only when we burst into the clearing that I realized where my gelding had been taking me: the cave where we'd stayed last night. Smoke curled out from the cave's mouth. It rose and disappeared into the rosy sunset. Briskly I dismounted and tied Hasufel's reins to a tree. Gritting my teeth, I stamped into the cave.

There, sitting cross-legged on one side of the fire, was Berenglorion. He looked up at me as I entered. Never before had I seen such a look of discouragement and frustration on an elf's face. Had I not been so angry or hurt, I think I would have rushed to hug him. But I was playing offense now.

"Why didn't you tell me what was going on?" I asked angrily, taking a seat opposite him. "Why didn't you stop them from planning to use me?" The hurt in my voice was almost palpable.

The elf looked even more stricken. "Candorien, I … I …"

I glared at him, heart not at _all_ softened. "Either explain yourself or get out. And whichever you choose, be quick about it."

"I… I…"

"I said be quick about it!"

Berenglorion sighed. "All right. I will explain what I can. The group of elves we ate with today, well, they were all Legolas's close friends before the war. He and Raina used to think themselves in love, but no one else did. They were only infatuated with one another, if you ask me. Anyway, most of his old friends (myself included) are going to try to separate Legolas and Lady Mary Elizabeth. They think you can be of assistance. They want a person close to MEKESSG, and you happen to be just that. They plan to use you to think up plots and to destroy their union." He sighed again. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you… I only learned of their full plan this afternoon. I suppose I forgot what I should always have remembered. You are not just her lady-in-waiting or friend. You are – should have been – my responsibility, and it is my duty to keep you out of court intrigues. I have failed you, Candorien, and I am sorry. Will you forgive me?"

I watched him in silence for several minutes. The elf's eyes kept pleading with me for forgiveness, and I wanted to. To say those words that would erase the lines of care from his face. But I couldn't. Not just yet.

"How long have you known of this idea of a plot?"

He looked down, ashamed. It hurt that he couldn't look me in the eyes. "Since your first night here. That's why I was so eager to accept your plan… though I had to hide it."

"So you've been using me as well? You pestilential traitorous cow-hearted yeasty codpiece!" I cried, even angrier than I had been before. "All that time… I thought you were sincere. I thought you needed my help. I thought I could trust you," I whispered, half to myself. "I thought I could finally trust someone… thought I could have a friend for once. But now I see I can't. Very well. I'll just go to Gondor… find a position there… be a maid or groom or sommat… get away from all these ruddy elves." With dignity I pushed myself up and quit the cave.

"Candorien, you can't be serious!" Berenglorion called after me, leaping to his feet. "You don't know the way!"

_You just try and stop me! _ I thought angrily. Aloud, I snapped brusquely, "I'll take the Forest Road. Unlike MEKESSG, I always carry a map." Indeed, there was a map stashed deep in my saddlebags. By now, I had untied Hasufel from the tree.

"You'll get lost! The spiders with catch you."

"Yeah, well, they're better than you." I was in the saddle now, and he knew he couldn't get me off. "Goodbye, Berenglorion. I hope you succeed with your plan. But I doubt it," I added, Barbossa-like.

"Candorien, don't!"

I nudged Hasufel in the ribs, and he took off, Changeling at our heels as usual. Behind me, I heard Berenglorion curse and then mount his own horse, which I suppose had been tethered somewhere out of sight. The annoying elf was coming after me.

Hasufel sensed the pursuer. His ears came up and he ran full-tilt through the trees, leaping over fallen branches in our rush to reach the Forest Road. Changeling was only barely able to keep up. Suddenly she took a flying leap and landed in my lap. I leaned forward and wrapped my arms about her as Hasufel increased his speed.

"Candorien!" Berenglorion yelled. "Candorien, please don't do this!"

I ignored him, trying to watch the nonexistent path my gelding was charging down. It was dark and getting cold, but that didn't matter to me at the moment. I was running away – from my life, from my niche, from my safe little existence. No elf was going to drag me back.

Ten minutes later, someone grabbed hold of the reins, and Hasufel jerked to a halt. It had begun to rain, and my clothes were getting plastered to my body. I felt thoroughly miserable. What I was doing was overreacting, a bad habit. One little annoyance was not really enough for me to abandon my life and take off. I was being selfish and immature, and in my heart of hearts, I think I knew it. I just didn't want to admit it.

"Candorien, this is madness," Berenglorion hissed, bringing his mount perilously close to mine. The rain streamed off his face, and he looked chilled to the bone… odd, seeing as how I wasn't even that bothered by the weather. "Stop this at once. We will go back to the palace, and no harm will be done. Come home."

"No," I persisted stubbornly, hugging Changeling to my chest. "I'm not coming back."

"Yes, you are."

This is, of course, the moment when in all insipid romance films he leans across our two horses and kisses me passionately, and we soon progress to… other things. But my life (all of Middle-earth for that matter) is _not_ a romance film, thank goodness, and nothing of the kind occurred.

"No, Berenglorion, I am not coming back."

"You will return, even if I must escort you at sword point."

I sagged weakly in the saddle, shocked and appalled by his declaration. "Surely you wouldn't."

"Candorien, I assure you, I would. But come, be reasonable. There is no need for force, if you would but do as you're told."

I struggled to force back tears. "You are just like all the rest of them. Just because you're an elf, you think you're superior to me. You think you can use me. Well, I 'm sick of it! You want me to return, do you? Very well, then, I will, but mark this: I will not assist you in any plots. I will not help you or be your friend. And the first chance I get, I will leave Mirkwood for Gondor, Dale, or even Rivendell. Savvy?"

The elf looked at me, and I saw sorrow – or was it regret? – in his eyes.

"You could have been a powerful ally," was all he said.

I wanted to slap him then and almost did as he relieved me of the reins and slowly began to lead us back to the caves.

_Ally! Is that all he thinks of me? The ungrateful, inconsiderate, unendurable elf!_

We rode in silence for a long while. I was hunched over in the saddle, doing my best not to fall into a Gollum/Smeagol thought process or start crying.

"I am sorry it has to end this way," that stupid ellon said at last. "I do wish you had been more reasonable."

"Elf, I am not going to be reasonable – ever!" I spat, finally letting the tears fall. My chin quivered, but I still managed a formidable glare. "I am human, driven by emotions incomprehensible to you and your kind. I am a fourteen-year-old girl. I have passions and interests you would never even guess at. You cannot understand me. So why do you even try?"

He actually turned around. "You act like a child. And children must obey their elders."

"I am a child. And you lie through your teeth," I countered.

"You lied to me. Everything you've said since we met has been a lie, hasn't it? The whole I-need-your-help thing. The dancing lessons. Being overshadowed by Legolas. You just wanted me on your side. And I fell for it, hook, line, and sinker." I laughed bitterly at my own folly. "Just like I always do."

"Candorien, I … it wasn't all a lie," he said quietly. "I thought you were just a liability at first, a possible danger to the kingdom. But then, well, I got to know you, and you grew on me. I truly am sorry I wasn't a better friend. When you get to be as old as I am, it is easy to disregard the feelings of the young. I did mean what I said to you about Legolas and about worth. That story is something I have never shared with anyone else. I cannot tell you how impressed I am with your ability to stand up to MEKESSG. If you'll forgive me, I would still like to be your friend."

I could see it hurt his pride to apologize to me, and I knew that this was all I could ask of him just now.

"All right, Char," I smiled tentatively at him, "I'll forgive you – but only if you're willing to forgive me as well. I have acted rather the child tonight."

"It is already done," he answered with a grin. My smile became brighter. It was good to be friends again.

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**Author's Note: As always, reviews are appreciated, and flames will be used to help me take over the world. Navaer an si!**


	18. Not So Bad After All

**Slayer3 – What am I going to have to do? Toss in a little bit of romance for you?**

**J – Good point. I don't think you'll find Candorien entirely as forgiving as you thought.**

**Shadow reader – I'm juggling enough characters and subplots at the moment. But I shall take your opinion and comments into consideration.**

**Inwe – Indeed I did. I was… shocked to say the least.**

**H.J. – She still may. You never know.**

**Em – Dramatic's one word for it.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Someone else owns it all.**

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It was well past midnight when we finally rode up to the stables. Berenglorion dismounted and then came over and took Changeling so I could slide off. By now I was soaked and rather cold. I could barely feel my nose.

Free of his burden, Hasufel surged into the warm stable, making straight for his stall. Once inside, he halted and turned to look back at me expectantly.

"Hasufel," I groaned as I slowly stumbled over to him rather more clumsily than was necessary and began to untie his girth with my stiff fingers (again not so stiff as I made them appear). "Hasufel, do you have to…" The gelding turned his head and whuffed on my poor fingers. "You lazy bum," I murmured, but my hands felt better, and I quickly finished stripping off his tack.

Berenglorion was doing the same in the stall opposite, keeping up a soft running conversation with his horse. I watched him warily from the corner of my eye. Changeling slunk into the stall and curled up in a corner. Halfway thawed, I reached for a brush and started to give my horse a good rubdown.

"The king and his men stole the queen from her bed and bound her in her bones. The seas be ours, and by the powers where we will, we'll roam. Yo ho, haul together, hoist the colours high. Heave ho, thieves and beggars, never say we die," I sang softly, one hand clenched on my sword hilt.

Hasufel snorted at me, his great dark eyes half-closed. His head was dropping, and the moment I stepped back he folded his legs and laid down, careful not to crush Changeling. She yawned and moved over to curl up against his back.

"Night, loves," I murmured, carrying the tack over to its stand and slinging the saddlebags over one shoulder. Just as I finished, Berenglorion came out of his horse's stall.

"You look exhausted," he observed, not unkindly. He seemed somewhat uncertain about how to act around me, but I didn't mind. He'd get over it. They all did, in the end.

"I _am_ exhausted, Char," I replied, rather annoyed. "So far tonight, I've been forced into a straitjacket, run away from what appears to be my home at the moment, and ridden for hours in the cold and rain. If I don't fall asleep on my feet, it'll be a marvel."

"I'd forgotten how easily you mortals tire," he commented lazily, pouring grain into both horses' troughs. "That ride was mere child's play."

Scowling, I told him what I thought of him – in very discourteous Khudzul.

The elf took a step back, amazed and somewhat surprised at my vehemence. He obviously didn't know how much time I'd spent with Gimli on the quest. We had been on-again, off-again allies, always quick to defend each other against MEKESSG. And he'd had a lovely vocabulary of curses. Suffice it to say I gravitated towards him, to a degree, at any rate.

"That was very, er, educational," he said after having a moment to recover.

"Do you know what any of it meant?"

"No. We don't spend much time with dwarves, we Elves."

So superior, wasn't he? "Good." I was _very_ glad he had no idea as to what I'd just called him… and his mother. He would not have been pleased. One very stressful day, I'd let one of my Khudzul words slip in front of Aragorn and Gandalf. The Ranger promptly boxed my ears, and Gandalf delivered an eloquent speech on the evils of cursing. After that I never cursed in their presence – far too risky. Besides, I like my ears free from pain and lectures. More for effect than for anything else, I yawned ginormously.

"Perhaps you really should go to bed," Berenglorion suggested worriedly. A frown line appeared above his eyebrows and began to deepen, and his eyes were filled with concern. "You do not look well."

Truth be told, I didn't feel well. My head hurt, and everything felt rather fuzzy… and not in a good way. It reminded me of the time I'd gotten strep throat over spring break, which had been complete murder. Not to mention I was so mixed up inside my head. Nothing made sense at this point. But my pride wouldn't let me admit my discomfort, so I insisted that I was all right.

The elf didn't look at all convinced.

"Honestly, Char, I'm fine." In order to assure him of this, I attempted to walk in a straight line. It didn't work. I fell over and sat on the floor, blinking numbly as everything became a fuzzy haze.

"Come on, get up." The elf was taking my hands, pulling me to my feet. "Candorien, you are most assuredly not all right. Now let's get you to your room."

I nodded slowly and tried to take a step. Suddenly I fell limply against him as everything went black.

* * *

"Wakey, wakey, Candy," trilled an overly happy voice.

I forced myself to open my eyes. I was back in my room, and MEKESSG was perched on the edge of the bed, smiling down at me.

"Llama," I groaned out of habit.

"Candy, don't talk. You're sick."

_Really? So my evil plan worked? Muahahahaha! I mean… oops._

She must have known what I was thinking, for she frowned at me before continuing, "You caught strep last night… Berenglorion had to carry you in. What in the name of wonder were you thinking?"

This sounded so unlike her that I blinked again. Oh, that had been Legolas talking and frowning. Funny how he and his girlfriend looked alike.

"Candy, Leggy's right," MEKESSG simpered, but she looked worried. Wow. Little Miss Perfect seemed to actually care about me. I blinked once more. Oh! MEKESSG was on one side, and Legolas was on the other. Wow. I felt popular.

"Candorien, you have a high fever. The healers aren't sure what to do. What happened?" Legolas looked worried as well.

"Ran away," I mumbled, wanting to fall back into my dreams.

"Why?" It was MEKESSG this time. "Candy, you aren't half so flighty as you try to make everyone believe. We saw you stalk out during the feast. Legolas said to leave you alone… you looked upset, and you're rarely upset for no reason, even if you are unable to explain said reason. So what happened to make you run away?"

I froze, shocked to hear such words of reason coming from _her_ mouth. Could I tell her the truth? That I'd heard about a plot to break up her happy relationship with Legolas? No, of course I couldn't. I might not be working with the rebels, but I wasn't about to snitch on them either. Besides, I didn't think she'd believe me. In the end I just shook my head, lips pressed together. There was nothing to say, nothing I could say, at any rate.

"Candy" –

"Don't interrogate her further, meleth nin." Legolas looked down at me with shrewd understanding. "I doubt very much if Candorien feels up to answering questions just yet."

I managed a small nod, grateful for his sympathy. On a sudden impulse, I queried, "Where's Berenglorion?"

Both Legolas and MEKESSG looked shocked that I had been able to ask such a long question.

"He called a healer as soon as he got you in and found you had a fever," Legolas replied ponderously. "The poor fellow was up all night helping her and watching you. He's off getting some food and rest now, on my orders."

"He likes you, Candy," MEKESSG said quietly, almost in disbelief. "He really was worried about you." She sounded incredulous that a girl like me could win the friendship of such as he. I wasn't insulted.

The two lovebirds rose from my bed and headed for the door. Suddenly Legolas turned. "Oh, Candorien, the court is heading out on a hunt, but I've given orders for Hasufel to be left here. Berenglorion will return as soon as he's eaten, I believe. Will you be all right?"

There was such kind concern in both of their green eyes that I nearly choked up. "Of course, guys. I'll be fine."

Nodding, they left.

I sank back down into the depths of the bed, thinking hard. Were MEKESSG and Legolas really as bad as I'd been thinking them? Or were they like the popular girls at my school? Okay most of the time but occasionally subject to cruel herd animal instincts? Confused by this conundrum, I slipped off to sleep.

* * *

**Author's Note: Sorry for the shortness! I'm leaving on vacation for two weeks. Thought I'd leave you this nice little chapter to keep you company whilst your dear Authoressinhiding is gone. The denizens wave and say farewell. They shall be shrinking and sneaking aboard the plane in my HP messenger bag... somehow I'm not sure about this plan.**

**Ta, **

**Authoressinhiding**


	19. Bathtime

**Inwe – The thestrals and Luna were great, and Bellatrix was very much as pictured, but… I just didn't really feel involved by it at all.**

**Slayer3 – You're a hopeless romantic just like me, and you know it. **

**Just Me – I can send you the rest of them, if you want. I know them all by heart. I am such a dork.**

**Disclaimer: Franchises, mates! Franchises!**

* * *

I woke to find Berenglorion sitting on a chair beside my bed. He was dreaming, eyes open and unfocused, face extremely peaceful. I got a twisted feeling in my gut when I looked at him, so I quickly turned away and took to staring at the bedcovers.

_Stop having a crush on him!_ I told myself firmly, smoothing out a wrinkle on the comforter. _You can't have a crush on him!_

_And why not? Why shouldn't I like him?_

_Because he's an elf, and you're a mortal. Because he is ancient, and you are fourteen. Because he is noble, and you are common. Because he is stern and lordly, and you are immature and hyper. It would _never_ work. Besides, he's tricksy, in't 'e? 'E's false, precious._

_Oh, shut it. I like him. A lot. And he likes me!_

_In that way?_

_I don't know! Yes, no, I just don't know._

_Well, then, please remember that your "crushes" have the tendency of getting us into trouble._

With a sigh, I slumped against the pillows, frustrated and annoyed.

"I see you're awake."

I had _not_ been expecting that. I jumped off the bed and fumbled for my sword, only to realize it wasn't there. By that time, I had also realized was a lot sicker than I had thought. I crumpled against the wall, panting.

"Candorien, are you all right?" Berenglorion asked concernedly, bending over me.

"Fine." Pushing against the wall, I somehow managed to stand. "Sorry about last night." It was killing me to stay upright. My temples pounded with the ferocity of the quads during a cadence, and my throat was dry and painful. Even so, I was not going to let him know how bad off I was. I could _not_ be weak or defenseless in front of him.

He waved my apology away with an airy hand and move closer to me. His eyes stared into mine purposefully for a moment, and then he stepped back.

"You are still sick, Candorien."

"No, I'm not." My voice croaked on the 'not'. "Oh. Guess I am."

"In the bed. Now," the elf ordered, stern, but the worry in his eyes betrayed him.

"All right, guv'nor. All right." I struggled to take a step and fell back against the wall. I tried again and stumbled backwards again. A third time I attempted to cross to the bed, and a third time I couldn't make it. Exhausted, I slumped against the wall, defeated and helpless.

"Candorien, forgive me." In a moment, Berenglorion was at my side. The elf lifted me with no apparent effort and bore me to the bed, where he set me down gently. I started to shiver the moment he let go, and with my last ounce of strength I scrambled under the covers. Closing my eyes, I relaxed and fell into the grip of the fever.

"Candorien, hold on. I'm going for a healer."

Berenglorion's words entered into my skull, bounced around, and then made a hasty departure as the fever pulled me from the world.

When I finally woke up again, the healer was bending over me.

"She's awake." The elleth drew back. Her cool gray eyes were filled with concern. "How are you doing, young lady?"

"Water," I gasped, sweaty and feverish. "Water, please."

Someone slipped a hand behind my back to help me sit up and pressed a cool mug to my lips. I drank hastily and greedily. The icy water ran down my poor sore throat. Unable to contain myself, I let out a soft moan and slurped up more of the heavenly liquid. Soon, all too soon, it was gone.

"More."

I vaguely saw a blurry shape pick up a silver pitcher and hear the sound of falling water.

"Here, Candorien."

Another cup of water was put in front of me, and I drank quickly. My entire body felt clammy, and my hair was plastered to my skin. I knew I was covered in sweat, and I wanted a bath really bad.

"Sick," I croaked after two more glasses of water.

"Yes, Candorien, we know." The healer had a calm, soothing voice that suited her occupation. "You have been delirious for quite a while."

This did not surprise me in the least. It felt as if I had been out for ages, as if I had been wandering in forgotten lands for as long as I could remember. Everything thing about my life besides those wanderings seemed vague and far away.

"Grawph."

"You need to stay in bed and rest up."

I muttered something under my breath and closed my eyes wearily. Whenever I was sick, I watch LotR and my other favorite movies. Now I was sick in Middle-earth, and I couldn't.

"I feel disgusting," I managed to croak. "Bath."

"Is she well enough?" asked a worried voice.

_Poor Char. He must really be upset,_ I thought drowsily. _I wish he weren't._

"I… I think so, Captain. You'll have to be careful with her, though. She isn't healthy enough for your usual jaunts. She sounded disapproving, and I was sure she knew of our adventure the night before.

"Of course, Tarien. I will take the utmost care. Anything you would like me to grab before we go, Candorien?"

"Change… clothes… comb… towel… dagger," I mumbled.

The healer and Berenglorion quickly gathered together a bundle of the things I'd requested. The ellon slung it over one shoulder and then walked over to the bed. He gathered me into his arms as if I weighed nothing at all. I laid my head against his chest and almost drifted off again as the elf slowly made his way along the passage and through the caves until at last we reached the small heated baths.

Char set me down gently and bid me try to stand up and walk. With a good deal of effort, I managed to stay upright on my own. It was a small room with a large sunken pool in the middle. Berenglorion deposited my bundle on a chair, bowed, and left the room, instructing me to call for him if anything went awry and that I could take as long as I wanted.

Once the door was shut and barred – with a brother you learn never to take chances, I smiled and began to disrobe. As I stepped into the bath, I thought I knew what heaven felt like. The warm water swirled around my knees as I slowly lowered myself into the pool. I leaned my head back, my dishwater blond hair forming a floating cloud encircling my face. After relaxing for quite a while, I washed my hair and body with the soaps and solutions left beside the pool. There was even a razor – which came as quite a surprise to me. I hadn't known elves shaved anything. Seeing no reason to put a perfectly useful thing to waste, I shaved my legs and underarms – only cutting myself once, thankyouverymuch.

As soon as I had finished, I pushed myself up out of the water. After grabbing my towel, I settled on the edge of the bath to dry off and dress. By the time I was clothed and ready to go, I wasn't feeling nearly as sick as I had been earlier, and I was singing. And yes, someone had pounded on the wall and told me to be quiet. Rivendell or Mirkwood, some things never change with elves. Regardless what the books of lore say, elves are _not_ a tolerant people when it comes to clogged up mortals' singing.

I was running over the part of Phantom of the Opera where Raoul encourages Christine to participate in their plot to catch Erik and doing some running away plotting of my own when I heard the lock on the door click as someone tried to open it. Silently I drew my dagger from its sheath and stepped back against the wall as the door swung open.

* * *

**Author's Note: Sorry about the shortness. I'll try to update again later this week. I've just some rather pressing concerns to deal with at the moment. Band camp has started, and I've got a bagpipe lesson tonight when I haven't practiced in two weeks as I've been on vacation. I be back, had a great time, and met some cute boys. XD I love EFY!!!**


	20. Fostering?

**Just Me – Really? My mom loves bagpipes, which is part of the reason I'm learning.**

**Inwe – Yes, cute boys. PM me for more info. **

**Slayer3 – Yes, my dear reviewer, you are a hopeless romantic. But that's okay. So am I.**

**Disclaimer: I own everything! Everything! EVERYTHING::is struck by lightning:: Okay, never mind.**

* * *

"Candy? Candy?"

I drew a breath of relief. It was only Mary Elizabeth Katrina Ellen Sara Susana Greenhow.

"Yes?" I stepped out from behind the door, sheathing my dagger.

"We need to talk." The beautiful older girl grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the bathroom and along the passage. "Take Lady Candorien's things to my room," she ordered Berenglorion. "And then collect her other belongings from her room and bring them to mine as well."

MEKESSG pulled me by the hand and ran through the halls until we came to her room. She literally shoved me through the door. I staggered across the floor and collapsed on the enormous feather bed, staring at her in confusion. I had only a moment to take in the silk-draped walls, mirror that covered an entire wall, and piles of fancy dresses all over the floor before she rounded on me.

"What is wrong with you, Candorien?" MEKESSG spat, bristling. She stood three feet from me, eyes snapping, hands firmly planted on her hips.

"What? I'm sick!"

"I highly doubt that. You are acting sick because you want the rewards that follow. You want to be pitied after your little immature run away attempt. You want Berenglorion to take care of you – it's so obvious. Why can't you just grow up?"

I just looked up at her, mouth agape, in shock. "Is that what you really think of me, Mary Elizabeth?"

She rolled her eyes expressively. "Everyone thinks that. Berenglorion's complained about it to Legolas a time or two. Candorien, you _are _very pretty – yes, I know you disagree – but he will never love you that way. He's too far out of your league, mellon nin. I'm sure there are some wonderful boys in Gondor and Rohan who will fall head over heels for you in a few years. In fact, Legolas and I have been considering sending you to foster with Aragorn, Éomer, or Faramir. Maybe even at Rivendell. It would be better for you. You are not an elf, Candorien. I do not think you can live like one." MEKESSG smiled at me kindly. "Candorien, Legolas and I want what's best for you, and it isn't here."

"But… but… but…" I sputtered.

"Where would you like to be fostered, Candorien? We would like your opinion, though in the end we will be making the final decision."

I felt nothing but mute horror. "What about Berenglorion?" I asked at last. "I love him. I don't want to be without him."

The gorgeous girl in front of me looked at me with pity. "Oh dear. You have fallen in love with him, haven't you?"

I nodded numbly.

"Come here." MEKESSG crossed over to the bed and gave me a hug. "Candorien, I can't make him like you, and you know that. Not that I would if I could. But wouldn't you like to get away from all this? To put distance between yourselves? To find out more about your heart and mind?"

"I suppose so," I mumbled into her shoulder.

"All right, then. Where would you like to go?"

"Minas Tirith, I guess. I can always change my mind later."

"Of course, dear. I shall send a courier to Elessar this very day. Candorien?"

I was crying softly, the tears sliding down my cheeks and onto the fabric of her beautiful dress.

"I know I ought to go," I sobbed, "but I still don't want to. I can't help it. I don't want to say goodbye – to you, Legolas, or Berenglorion."

_Why are we saying this?_

_Because if they think we don't want to leave then they'll be even more for making us leave…I think… not sure. Don't ask complicated questions!_

MEKESSG looked at me sternly. Apparently I had used up her stock of pity. Either that, or she knew I was crying crocodile tears. "Candorien, stop feeling sorry for yourself." She rose and jerked me to my feet. "I am going to use the palantiri to contact Elessar."

"You have a palantir?" I asked in surprise.

"Of course," she replied simply, moving over to the desk. "Did you actually think I would be so ill-equipped as not to have one? Hah!" With a flashy, dramatic gesture, she pulled the cover off a large ball that looked to be made of obsidian but wasn't.

MEKESSG tapped it briskly and proceeded to glare at it for a short while until it began to glow softly red.

"Ah," she breathed. "That's better. Elessar? Do you see me, Elessar?"

"Lady Mary Elizabeth Katrina Ellen Sara Susana Greenhow?" asked a slightly hoarse, strangled voice.

I smirked. Poor Aragorn. He obviously hadn't been expecting this. I didn't blame him for sounding so poorly.

"Yes, Elessar?" MEKESSG replied quite calmly.

"I… I thought you were dead." The King of Gondor and Arnor sounded about to panic.

"So did everyone else. Fortunately, however, I am very much alive. I have a favor to ask."

"Ask away," said Aragorn, sounding a bit more relaxed. But only a bit.

"Well, Elfstone, I am in Mirkwood with my darling Legolas and dear little Candorien. Legolas and I were wondering if we could send Candorien to you for fostering."

Thence followed a pregnant pause that lasted for several minutes.

At last Aragorn managed to choke, "Candorien? Foster? What does Thranduil say?"

"He has agreed. Gave his blessing, in fact. We think it would be more appropriate if Candorien were brought up in Gondor. There are no elves her age or even any closer than 500 years old."

"I see. May I speak to Candorien? That is if it wouldn't inconvenience you, lady."

"Of course." MEKESSG turned and motioned for me to come over beside her and look in the stone.

As I did so, I caught sight of Aragorn looking up at me in the palantir. A wave of longing swept over me then, but I pushed it away.

"'Ello, Aragorn."

"Valar, Candorien, it's you!"

"So I realized," I said dryly. "You said you wanted to talk. What about?"

"Is it your wish to foster in Gondor – to come and live with Arwen and myself?"

I shrugged so he could see. "I don't really care one way or the other. It would be entertaining."

"Ah. And is Mirkwood boring?"

"Not exactly, but much more goes on in Minas Tirith. Many more scandals, intrigues, cuckolds, you know, things of that ilk."

Elessar stared at me for a moment and then laughed. "You haven't changed a bit, have you, Candorien?"

"Nope," I grinned. Going to Minas Tirith was sounding better and better every minute.

"All right, that's enough." Gently yet firmly, MEKESSG took the palantir back. "Elessar? We were planning on sending her tomorrow with an escort."

"Ah. How large of an escort?"

"One elf. It will do him good to get out of the kingdom, and he and Candorien are close friends."

_Is she sending Berenglorion? _I wondered, both hope and annoyance rising in my heart no matter how hard I tried to squash them.

"Good. So she ought to be here in two, three weeks at most?"

"I think so."

"Arwen will be glad to hear of it. I suppose that's it, then?"

"I think so."

"Navaer an si, Lady Mary Elizabeth. Candorien."

"Navaer an si, Elessar," MEKESSG replied solemnly.

"Bye, Aragorn!" I called.

The palantir stopped glowing, and MEKESSG covered it with the cloth again.

"So… I'm leaving tomorrow?"

"Yes, and we must get you packed," she replied distractedly. "You have two gowns and three other outfits, correct?"

I nodded.

"That isn't as good as it ought to be, but it will have to do. Now where is that dratted Berenglorion?"

"Here, madam."

We both jumped and turned to find Legolas and Berenglorion standing in the doorway. MEKESSG flushed, but only a little bit.

"Where are Candy's belongings?" she asked archly, acting as if she hadn't been in the wrong one bit.

"Pardon me, lady. They are in the hallway. I shall fetch them at once," Berenglorion answered with just the right mixture of servility and polite impertinence.

"There's no need for that," I said hastily. "I can get my own things."

MEKESSG shot me a quelling look that ought to have left me shaking in my boots but merely made me annoyed. "Candorien, stay put," she ordered grandly. "Berenglorion will get them."

The ellon shrugged lightly and disappeared into the hall, returning seconds later with my things. I rushed forward to relieve him of them and then deposited my bundles on the other side of the bed. Legolas watched all this with an air of cool detachment.

"Berenglorion, you and Candy here leave tomorrow at first light. I leave the travel arrangements up to you," MEKESSG directed.

He nodded and swept out of the room. Legolas shut the door behind him.

"Estel approved it, then?" he asked of Mary Elizabeth Katrina Ellen Sara Susana Greenhow. As she nodded, I mentally squealed with pleasure. I was going to Gondor, and Berenglorion was going with me. What could possibly go wrong?

* * *

**Author's Note: A little longer than the last one. I hope you will enjoy it. As always, reviews are appreciated, and flames will be used to scorch the behinds of some meddling, interfering, cell-phone-stealing, texting denizens. Ehem. I shall attempt to update soon. **


	21. What Went Wrong

**Slayer3 – Is Barlow Girl a good band? One of my sister's friends likes it. I may have to listen to some of their music.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Absolutely nothing. And I don't want to get struck by lightning again.**

* * *

Five minutes into my happy-happy-joy-joy dance of ecstasy, MEKESSG took me by the shoulders and forced me to sit on the bed.

"Candy, dear, since you're going away, Legolas and I have decided to hold a party in your honor."

My ecstasy was flying away now. I could see its quetzal form flitting out the door.

"A party?" I mumbled, annoyed but not really surprised.

"Yes, dear. A party for _you. _Won't that be lovely?"

"I'd rather kiss Barbossa," I muttered angrily, quite serious.

"Really?" MEKESSG asked, curious. "I always thought Will was more your type."

"You know Master Turner?" I wondered, glancing at Legolas. He looked confused but not too bothered about it.

"Leggiekins, I simply _must_ start preparing Candy for her journey and the ball tonight. If you would be so kind as to…."

The wood elf bowed and quit the room, managing to give off an air of bored aloofness. I would have given all the corsets in the world for that air, but it wasn't something I could trade for.

MEKESSG walked over to the door, shut it firmly, and latched it.

"Of course I know William Turner," she answered at last. "I'm his childhood sweetheart. He was fun to tangle with – before I drowned in the shipwreck. I had to, so that dratted Elizabeth could take over. I do miss him, slightly. It's always fun to have a younger, inexperienced lover," she added with a gleam in her eye.

I fell off the bed, choking and gasping. "Bad! Mental! Images!" I shrieked at her.

"What? All we did was kiss, and that only a few times. I was just nine, and I met him on the ship." She looked at me disapprovingly. "You have a very dirty mind, Candorien."

_Not half as dirty as yours, I'll bet,_ I thought venomously, sitting up and brushing my hair out of my eyes.

"But that is not what I was going to say," she continued. "I was going to say that Will would fit you fine."

"What?" I gasped, quite shocked this time.

"He is quite clever, but too good and noble for a pirate," MEKESSG sniffed. "You, however, my dear Candy, lack any scruples whatsoever. You are extremely diverting on occasion, and I doubt they have any as skilled in circumlocution."

I nodded. Talking around people (or occasionally just talking them into oblivion) was something I had been doing for years.

"Of course there is the problem of getting you there in the right time and place," MEKSSG mused, sounding _very_ serious, "and we will have to deal with Elizabeth, but I think you're up to that."

"Um, Mary Elizabeth, we need to clear something here."

"What?" MEKSSG demanded impatiently.

"I am not going to just step into Pirates and get Will to fall in love with me."

"Why ever not?"

"Because it's wrong! Morally, ethically, spiritually, ecumenically, grammatically, whatever! It's just bloody wrong!"

"Very well. I will respect your wish for now. Should you ever change your mind…"

"Don't worry, I won't."

"Your childish desires aside, we must have you ready for the party, as well as packed for your journey. We shall tend the last matter first, for it will likely take the longest. Is there anything you especially desire to take with you?"

"My horse, dog, bow, quiver, flute, sword, and dagger. Some tack would be decent, too."

"You have named all that is dear to a hunter or warrior, Candorien, not that dear to the heart of a teenager girl."

_And your point is? _I thought but aloud said, "Well, I should take some fresh clothes, texts, a brush, and food."

"You have the mind of a Ranger, and I despair of you," MEKESSG laughed, quite uncharacteristically. "But tonight, at least, you shall suffer my wishes, all right? You shall wear a dress of _my_ choosing."

I winced painfully.

"AS well as the dress, you shall let my maids fit you with a corset. They will choose your shoes and do your hair as well."

I winced again even more painfully. Why did she have to bring up the corset? Why? Everyone who knows me can tell I am not a corset kind of girl. Even those who have been around for a mere ten minutes. I just send it out like a signal, I suppose.

"No corset," I told her forcefully. "No corset. Absolutely, positively, parasitically not."

To my surprise, MEKESSG's face lit up with evil glee. Trust me. I've seen it enough times to recognize it on sight now.

"Leggiekins said you'd say that." She was blithely quoting Pirates, and I doubt she realized it. "He also said if that be the case, you would get a full escort on the way to Gondor, and only the items I wanted to be packed would be in your bags."

The paraphrasing little blackmailer sat down immediately in front of me and grinned in a way that made me want to _run._

"So, Candorien, which will it be? A corset or an escort – an escort that will not include Berenglorion. So, which evil do you choose? The night in the corset, or the weeks with a Berenglorion-less escort? Don't forget; we all know you like him."

I glared at her for a while without saying anything. My mind was, of course, already decided, but I was not going to let her win without the appearance of a struggle. At last I sighed as if coming to a conclusion in my (albeit fake) inner crisis.

"All right," I told her, looking dejected. "I'll take the corset, even if I _will_ hate it."

Actually, I was beginning to look forward to trying on the corset and seeing if it really was as terrible as all the books and movies say. I can be a daredevil when it comes to things like horseback riding and tubing on the lake and corsets. I won't walk into a dragon's lair for the sheer adrenaline rush I'd get from it, though. I'm not that stupid.

"Very well," MEKESSG sniffed. Every bit as aloof as her … love slave, for lack of a better word, she rose gracefully and called for a servant.

The elleth who'd been my dresser the previous night – I couldn't believe it had been such a sort while since I'd flown from the caves, intent on running away – entered the room, carrying once again a huge pile of dresses and corsets. Behind her came another elleth with large sacks over her shoulders. I instinctively guessed them to be full of shoes, bags, hair implements, and make-up. The corset was sounding worse and worse by the minute.

"Stand," ordered MEKESSG firmly.

I don't know why I did it, but I stood, trying to look dignified.

"Undress – strip down to you undergarments."

With a sigh worthy of Aragorn, I unbuckled my weapons belt and laid it on the bed. Soon to follow were my trousers, tunic, stockings, and shoes. Finally I was left standing in my bare feet with nothing my drawers, undershirt, and breast band (apparently the Middle-earth equivalent of a bra).

"Undershirt off now."

"But Mary Elizabeth –"

"Undershirt off, Candorien!"

Trembling slightly, I pulled the soft undershirt up over my head and tossed it over to the bed.

"Very good. I see you've lost a good deal of weight. Keep it up. Your stomach is nearly flat. Girls, I believe this will do." She withdrew a tiny whalebone corset from the pile.

I snorted. Even I could tell there was no way under heaven that I was going to fit into the wee little torture device. As usual, I was wrong.

Half an hour later, I had been poked, plumped, sprayed, moisturized, and nearly suffocated. Next time my novels tell me something is uncomfortable, I'm going to believe them. That corset nearly killed me in the first five minutes. They laced it up so tightly I could barely breathe. I collapsed to the ground, wheezing and gasping. Someone threw cold water on my face, which revived me.

By the end of that half-hour, my hair had been carefully braided and coiffed on top of my head. The ellyth and MEKESSG had stuffed me into a sea green dress wit ha plunging neckline that (thankfully) did not expose too much of my bosom.

"It accentuates your assets," the instigator of all this mayhem informed me.

I growled at her. The dress was lovely and quite flattering, though I would have been content with something much more conservative.

Laughing at my reaction, MEKESSG checked my makeup and hair one more time, running her eyes over my satin dress and matching slippers. At last she said with a grin, "You'll do, Candy, you'll do. Now hurry along. Berenglorion's outside waiting to give you a dancing lesson."

* * *

**Author's Note: I know, not a really long chapter, but it's eventful-ish, right? As always, reviews are appreciated, and flames will be used to make s'mores. Or cook pan cookie. Or roast my drum major. Yeah, maybe that one…**

**Ever yours,**

**Authoressinhiding**


	22. Ball of DOOM take two

**Slayer3 – I shall have to listen to them then. They sound very… interesting. **

**Inwe – I love Skillet. And The Fold… ever heard of them? **

**Sea Green – They were, but complications arose, ensued, and have yet to be overcome. **

**Disclaimer: As long as Will Turner's heart is beating in the chest, I shall own nothing. And it stinketh. **

* * *

Berenglorion was indeed waiting outside the room. He held me at arm's length and looked me up and down.

"Very nice. A bit old for you, though, don't you think?"

I blushed, embarrassed. "I told them I wanted something a little less grown up, but…"

He stopped me by taking my hand and raising it to his lips.

The part of me that hadn't lost its common sense wondered why Fourth Age Mirkwood was starting to seem a lot more like Victorian England, and it was not happy about it. I would have paid it more attention, but a gorgeous elf was kissing my hand. Forgive me, but I was having a hard time focusing on anything else.

"We have a dancing lesson to attend, milady," Berenglorion said gently. "Come."

He led me down the passage for about five steps before I came to my senses, and as so often happens then, got angry.

"What in the world do you think you are doing?" I snapped, slapping his hand away peevishly.

"Trying not to get caught being 'rude', as the lady of the caves calls it. Standard court behavior now."

"What?"

"Here," he pressed something in my hand. "We'll talk tomorrow on the ride. Put this on, Candorien. I beg."

Noticing he wasn't speaking above a whisper – an elf's whisper at that – I nodded and opened my hand. Curled up in my palm lay a leather thong necklace with an amber heart pendant.

"Oh, thanks, Char. Jewelry." I was perplexed but pleased. And _very _pleased.

"Take this." The elf pulled something from his belt pouch and handed it to me.

It was a small, slender knife the length of my hand dangling on a leather loop.

"Attach that to the pendant," he ordered.

Still slightly shocked, I looked closely at the amber heart. Sticking out from the back was a small hook. After hooking the knife's loop on it, I slid the necklace over my head. The heart rested just above the neckline of the dress, and the knife lay flat against my chest, completely hidden by my cleavage, for lack of a better word.

"There. Now you're armed. Come along now." Berenglorion was still whispering, so I asked no further questions, saving them for later.

In but a few minutes, we arrived at his friend's chambers and entered. The musician was perched dross-legged atop his bed, strumming a lyre and humming in the back of his throat.

"Ah, mellyn, you are late," he censured, rising upon our entrance and coming over to greet us. "Have you been distracted by a pretty face, Berenglorion?" he teased. "As for you, Candorien, I thought you were more – ah, conservative."

I blushed crimson.

"She did not choose her own attire, gwador," laughed Berenglorion. "Lady Mary Elizabeth Katrina Ellen Sara Susana Greenhow did it."

"Really?" The ellon looked me up and down, focusing on my face and how I was breathing. "I see it now. You are not used to raiment such as this, no?" he asked with a smile.

"I almost died when they first dressed me," I confessed, growing more and more at ease with every moment.

The musician and Berenglorion laughed for a while.

"Ah, it was not always this way," the former said sadly. "Things have changed greatly since Legolas returned."

"Really?" My curiosity had been piqued. "How so?"

The ellyn looked uncomfortable.

"I'll tell you tomorrow, Candorien. Now, we must dance."

Berenglorion took my hand, and his friend picked up his lyre. We danced around the chamber for quite some time, moving slowly to the one-two-three, one-two-three. My head was whirring with a thousand questions, but somehow I suppressed them and managed to keep my mind on the dancing. Not that I was going to let Berenglorion off the hook, however. The elf would not get five seconds' peace until my queries had been answered.

A short hour of dancing later, we left the musician in his room and went to an antechamber just before the great hall so I could check my outfit. Berenglorion waited outside, the very picture of an English gentleman, while I messed with the hem and lay of my dress. The dagger was completely hidden by the satin straitjacket, and the part of the necklace that did show went very well with both the dress and my horse charm from Aragorn and Arwen. That made me very happy. My hair hadn't fallen down – thanks to MEKESSG's charms, no doubt – and the dress was actually still fitting. I wasn't having that terrible of a time breathing, and my chest wasn't heaving too badly. I didn't dare imagine what my father would have said. As a matter of fact, I didn't want to imagine what he'd have said.

As soon as I had finished giving my appearance a once-over, I left the antechamber and joined my elven escort outside the door.

"Ready, milady?" he asked politely.

I still didn't like being called "milady" by that elf, but I forced myself to ignore it and rise above the circumstances.

"Of course, milord," I simpered back. We were two players on some grand stage, audience and script both unknown. I wasn't quite sure of my part, but I guessed I could play it well enough. He held out a hand, and I placed mine on top of it. And in we went, confident and assured.

Thranduil sat upon the dais, at the head of the first table with Legolas on his right and MEKESSG on the left. I sat by Legolas, and Berenglorion was seated opposite me. The rest of the table was filled with Legolas's immediate family and Thranduil's captains and advisors. Many other folk sat at random tables.

"I hear you are to leave us tomorrow, Lady Candorien," said Thranduil gravely.

"Yes. The King Elessar has agreed to foster me in Minas Tirith," I replied with equal soberness.

"I am sorry to hear of your departure." The elven king was nothing if not courteous. "Thorongil will ensure you are taught properly, as befits a daughter of the Édain."

I flushed and stared down at the venison on my plate, both pleased and embarrassed.

"I see you have found a friend in my nephew," Thranduil added kindly. "Berenglorion is a rather strange person, is he not? But not my any means unpleasant. And now that I have embarrassed the both of you – oh, yes, I see those looks on your faces quite plainly. Sheer mortification, eh?"

"Ada," Legolas murmured warningly.

"Very well, Iôn nin, I will stop."

_Hannon le, _I thought fervently. I had been about to die under his gentle teasing. Berenglorion didn't look too happy either.

No one spoke to me of hard subjects for the rest of the meal, for which I was exceedingly grateful. Everything tasted delicious, and though I was checked by the killer-corset, I tried a tiny bit of everything.

Eventually, servants came and took away the dishes and food, leaving the goblets of wine. After a heated whispered discussion between Thranduil, Legolas, Berenglorion, and MEKESSG, I had been given a glass of water. Sometimes it is extremely annoying to have responsible people in charge of one. It becomes almost impossible to sneak a sip of an alcoholic beverage, such as beer or wine. I was nearly out of my mind with curiosity as to how the wine tasted. Knowing this, the supposedly responsible adults in charge of me were even more careful about making sure I didn't get my hands on any.

Anyways, once all the food had been removed, a small group of musicians (one being Berenglorion's friend) took up their positions at the far end of the hall and struck up a dancing tune. Many of the elves left their seats and began to dance, including MEKESSG and Legolas. As they all filed past our table, I noticed that many of the other ellyth were wearing corsets as well.

"Come." Berenglorion stood after the first dance and beckoned for me to join him. "Let us dance."

Reluctantly I rose from my chair and took his hand. Trying to feel confident, I followed the elf out onto the dance floor. Once there, Berenglorion placed his hand lightly on the small of my back and smiled. One hand on his shoulder, the other still held by him, I grinned back, confidence restored at last.

"Ready?"

"Yes. And you, Char?"

The smug elf acknowledged both question and nickname with a slight nod.

Before anything else could be said, we were off! Never before had my feet flown that speed, but the patterns were familiar, and the pressure of his hand on my back kept me to the pulsing one-two-three, one-two-three. Other couples whirled around us. The great hall was filled to overflowing with color, music, and laughter, but all my thought was bent solely on the elf before me.

"Having fun?" he asked once we felt sure enough of ourselves to relax.

"Yeah." He spun me out and back in.

"Candorien, we need to fix that problem." The elf gestured to Legolas and MEKESSG dancing extremely close together not too far off.

"I know, love. And I've got the perfect idea as to how to go about it." An evil grin lit up my face. This was going to be fun.

* * *

**Author's Note: Okay, one last update before my sophmore year of high school starts. I'm going to be extremely busy, what with Trig and Honors Biology and marching band, so... hopefully I shall be able to update sooner rather than later. I bid you all a very fond farewell as I leap back into the torrent of busyness that is high school. With luck I shall be back updating by the end of the week.**

** Love,**

**Your Authoressinhiding **


	23. Shocking Revelations

**Slayer 3 – URL vanished… you'll have to email the link to me. **

**Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. **

**Author's Note: Look, guys, I know this is up much later than I planned on, but please forgive me. Homework and band have swallowed my life. **

* * *

"It's not a plan, really," I admitted reluctantly. I didn't know whether or not I could tell him when he hadn't bee totally honest with me or answered my questions. "It's more of a memory."

"Well, what is it?" the elf demanded impatiently, pulling me further across the floor for the next dance. "Do you mind if we dance this one? It will give us a chance to talk unheeded."

"Of course not…. Oh, dear. I don't know how to do this."

"It's simple, Candorien. Here. Just hold my hand and follow me."

Berenglorion was an excellent dancer. Me? Not very talented at all. He hissed instructions to me, though, and we somehow managed to get through it.

"All right now?" he asked me midway through the dance.

"I think so," I replied carefully, keeping my eyes on his feet, which kept stamping and leaping and step-ball-stepping. The pattern and rhythm were complicated, and I had no wish to make a fool of myself.

"Good. Now, what was your, ah, recollection?"

I leaned in close to whisper my answer, then drew back quickly and girlishly.

Berenglorion grinned down at me and then kissed me stolidly on the cheek.

"Candorien," he exclaimed softly, "you're a marvel!"

I hadn't thought my news all that fantastic or marvelous, but I didn't say anything. It wouldn't do to ruin his buzz, and I was still in shock thanks to that kiss. Thank goodness it hadn't been a kiss on the mouth.

"If you say so, Char," I said aloud, still wondering why he was so excited about my unimportant news.

"I do. And now, Lady Candorien, let's dance."

The rest of the evening was simply wonderful. It felt like I was the belle of the ball, dancing with the king's nephew every dance. MEKESSG even told me I looked pretty – thanks to her, of course – but I took it in stride. I was on top of the world, and even Miss Perfect could not bring me down.

By the time the evening's merriment finally slowed, my feet were killing me. Berenglorion escorted me to MEKESSG's room and wished me a good night.

"We leave before daybreak, Candorien," he called merrily back to me. "I will be waiting for you here at four."

_Four!_ I thought miserably even as I gave a cheerful wave. _A most ungodly hour! These elves, I swear! _

Sighing, I struggled out of dress and slippers. My poor feet ached with relief after the squishing they had been enduring all night. Using a flexibility I'd never thought I had, I somehow squirmed out of the dreaded corset and pulled on my undershirt and trousers. Only then did I collapse on the bed, sucking in huge amounts of air as I did so. My torso had been constrained for more hours than I'd like to consider, and the loose, flowing elvish raiment I usually wore felt a blessing. Sighing again softly, I crawled into the middle of MEKESSG's huge bed and huddled under the covers. If she got upset about it, then she could just deal with it. I was too tired and grouchy to care. Within seconds of closing my eyes, I was fast asleep.

* * *

"Llama," I moaned sleepily, unwilling to open my eyes and leave the soft blissfully warm pocket I was currently inhabiting.

"Candorien."

"Llama."

"Candorien, we must leave now." The voice was urgent and low, and its owner laid a hand on my back.

This startled me from my stupor. "Char? But I'm in my…" 'Od's blood, this was embarrassing.

"Your tunic, shoes, and weapons are just below your right hand on the bed," the elf whispered, leaning over me so as to make less noise. "I am taking your pack. I will be in the stables awaiting your presence… or you can change now and come with me. Which will it be, Candorien?"

"Wait – please. It will take me only a moment." I did not much relish the thought of being left alone to creep through the palace in the wee hours of the morning.

"All right." The hand moved from my back, and I heard a small creak as Berenglorion eased himself off the bed and over to the other side of the room. "I am not looking."

Observing wryly that I had been less modest than this before, and around larger numbers of men and elves, too, I quickly sat up in bed and pulled my tunic over my head. It was but the work of a few seconds to lace up my riding boots and buckle on belt, flute, and quiver.

"Ready," I murmured, touching my escort's arm gently. "Really, though, must we leave so early?"

"Yes," Berenglorion replied, taking my hand in his. My pack was already slung over his shoulder, and he scanned the room carefully. "Anything else you need?"

I looked around, but all my things had been packed or were on my body. "Nope."

"All right, now. No more questions until we're off on the road, savvy?"

"Me savvy."

"Good."

Now we were off. Berenglorion led me by the hand as softly and quickly as possible through the halls until we came to the stables. Hasufel and Changeling were waiting there patiently, along with a liver chestnut mare with a white blaze. Char briskly slipped my pack into one of Hasufel's saddlebags and gestured for me to mount. Once I was up, the elf handed me a long leather thong – Changeling's leash. I wound it about my saddle horn as he mounted his own mare. With a nod from Berenglorion, we nudged and clucked to our horse. The mare led in the front, lifting her feet lightly so as to make no noise. Hasufel and Changeling followed after, eyes bright, ears eager.

Not a word was said the whole first hour. I was half asleep – it was still dark outside – and Berenglorion was ignoring me. Well, say more unaware of me than ignoring me. I wrapped my arms about myself and tried to go back asleep, but the pound of Hasufel's trot kept me awake. After a while, I began to drum flute fingerings on the pommel of my saddle – a bad habit. Still, no one spoke.

At last Berenglorion coughed softly, drawing my attention.

"Candorien," the elf began hesitantly, "there's something I ought to tell you."

My mind started whirring. Was he finally about to answer all my questions?

"Several somethings, in fact," he continued. "Ah… where to begin?"

"At the beginning," I told him promptly. "It always makes things less confusing."

Berenglorion gave me a look that said quite pointedly that I wasn't helping. As I could take a hint, we rode on in silence for a few minutes while he thought.

"Oh, I can't decide what to say," he sighed at last. "Feel free to ask any questions you like."

A grin lit up my face. I always enjoyed being able to ask all my questions.

"Okay. Question one: are you a eunuch?"

"No," replied the elf, looking mortified. "Er, pardon me, but why do you ask?"

I waved his question away with a hand. "Not important. Question two: why is it Legolas and MEKESSG are letting me be escorted by a single guard?"

Berenglorion smiled proudly. "They trust me and figure you will obey me and behave better than you would if you had a full escort."

I thought about this for a moment and then nodded in agreement. It made sense, oddly enough, and I could accept that.

"Okay, I can go with that. Question three: why did you agree to do it?"

Berenglorion smiled, more to himself than to me. "I thought it would be easier for you."

"Oh really?" I was intrigued.

"Yes."

"How so?" Now my curiosity was really piqued.

"Well, I thought you would rather be accompanied by an elf you, er, like that by someone you hardly know," he said slowly. "And I was rather bored."

The last part of his answer was completely lost on me. I was still reeling from the first.

"You – er – know I like you?" I mumbled quietly to my knees.

Berenglorion sighed. The dark gray air around us was slowly lightening up as day came, but the two of us were too caught up in our talk to really notice.

"I've known for a long time," he admitted at length.

"Then why didn't you say anything?"

The handsome elf sighed again. "I did not want to embarrass you."

"Yeah, well, how do you think I'm feeling now?" I rolled my eyes in the dark, knowing he couldn't see me.

"I am sorry."

We rode on in silence for a few more minutes before he spoke.

"Candorien, I want you to understand that it isn't that I do not like you. I do, but as a friend. You have brought more liveliness to my life than I've had since I was an elfling. Would you mind terribly if we were just friends?"

I nodded slowly, strangely relieved. I'd never told a crush I'd liked them before, but perhaps I should have. Then again… perhaps not.

With a sigh of my own, I continued my questioning. "Question four: why did you give me a dagger last night?"

Berenglorion turned to face me suddenly, and his face was deathly serious. "Because," he said solemnly, "I think your life might be in danger."

* * *

**Author's Note: Another cliffy to show my love. You can show yours by reviewing! xD I shall try to update soon, but as my first marching contest is in two weeks, I'm not sure how realistic that is... BTW, this chapter was typed to the Beatles' "Hey Jude" and Michael McLain's "Starry Starry Night". Two of the best songs EVER. Savvy?**


	24. Who and the Why and the What Now?

**Inwe – Thanks… you make me feel SO much better.**

**Slayer3 – Keep hoping for shippiness, but don't hold your breath.**

**Em – Oh, you will soon.**

**Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. NOTHING, I tell you!!! **

* * *

"What?" I exclaimed, jerking Hasufel to a stop rather ungraciously. "Someone wants to knock me off? Char… you have a great deal of explaining to do." I narrowed my eyes dangerously at the elf, one hand straying to the hilt of my knife.

He sighed deeply. "I will tell you when we stop for lunch at noon. We have to get further away from the caves before we stop. Changeling, up!" Berenglorion commanded.

My lean hound sprang into my lap, and he laughed.

"No, girl. Here." The elf gestured to a leather platform sticking out behind Hasufel's saddle.

Changeling rose unsteadily on her paws and delicately picked her way over me to the riding platform.

"Ah, I'm sure that's better for the both of you. Now we must really ride. Noro lim!"

The horses sprang away at a gallop, racing each other through the green foliage. Birds and beasts heard our frenzied approach and fled the path, sensing our urgency. Many of them had seen Berenglorion before, I deemed, and they had learned wary caution, especially when he rode in haste, as he did so now.

I gave Hasufel his head and began to plot. Apparently, someone wanted me dead. Not MEKESSG or Legolas, I was certain. They would have killed me in the caves. This whole fostering-far-away-and-leaving-in-the-middle-of-the-night fairly reeked of a save-Candorien mission, and I did not appreciate that in the slightest. If someone was out to get me, then my friends ought to at least tell me.

It might be my maid, but that was not very likely either. Thranduil would probably have been more obvious about killing me, and I doubt he had the motive to do so, anyway. So who did that leave? Berenglorion's musician friend seemed to be in on whatever odd things were going on, but he had been nice enough to me the night before. The ellon had said some curious things, though, and I wanted to know what he had meant.

_What is going on? _I asked myself after more quiet reflection. _I mean, it seems we are caught up in some great plot or scheme._

_Yes, _replied the voice I had come to think my Voice of Reason, _and that worries me. We really oughtn't be involved in this sort of thing, especially sing we aren't sure what exactly it is we're involved in._

_Point. _I sighed mentally. _Things were easier in the old War of the Ring days._

_Odd as it may seem, I agree with you. The War of the Ring was definitely more straightforward than this royal court intrigue, _said the Voice wisely.

_Aye… what are we to do?_

_I don't know, _snapped the Voice. _I just give you a dose of logic and reason. You make the decisions._

_Great. The one time I want you to tell me what to do, you refuse. Just great._

_I'm sorry. _Surprisingly the Voice sounded sincere. _I cannot think of anything to do. We have too little information, Candorien. _

_Now you sound like my Voice of Reason._

With a sigh, I focused on the path ahead of us, annoyed and bored. There was nothing I could do to sort out the confusing mess I found myself in until we stopped at noon.

We rode in silence for the next few hours until noon, varying between short periods of all-out galloping and long stretches at a fast walk. Whatever Berenglorion was thinking, he kept it to himself. I though and hummed, trying in vain to make sense of the bewildering chain of events that had begun with my appearance in Middle-earth.

I was missing my other old friends as well. How I longed for an afternoon's riding with Merry, Pip, Sam, Frodo (if he wasn't being too angsty), and Gimli. I needed some bawdy drinking songs or jokes about Legolas and the other elves. Gimli's dry, sarcastic wit and the hobbits' enthusiastic misbehavior would be a welcome relief from the titters and giggles of the wood elves. Even Aragorn's firm discipline would be enjoyable at this point. I missed Boromir too, but Death was a barrier no mortal could cross.

By the time we stopped, I was extremely melancholy. Changeling seemed to pick up my bad mood, for she laid her head on my leg and snuffed despondently.

"Candorien, take this." The elf handed me a large pasty. "Eat. I'll start explaining things now, I suppose."

_Please do,_ I thought, rather annoyed.

"Candorien," my guard began seriously, "you were never supposed to know about the plot to overthrow MEKESSG and not help with it. Your refusal to do so – unthinkable to them. You surprised them that night. You surprised me as well, believe it or not. You are quite independent and strong-minded, Candorien, but even I believed you incapable of standing up to that many elves." Berenglorion paused and then laughed softly. "You stood on quite a few toes, Candorien. Perhaps mine were the only set you did not trod on at that dinner. But I digress. Back on topic, some of those elves do not believe you should possess that information and go free."

I nodded slowly. It all made sense, and the confusing mess I had found myself in seemed a little less confusing.

"So you think one of them might be trying to, er, do me in, shall we say?"

Berenglorion nodded slowly, taking a bite of his own pasty. "I am afraid so. I don't believe I've seen my friends that angry in ages. Not even during the War. But there you have it. "

I sighed and finished my lunch, taking a swig of water from the skin hanging beside one of Hasufel's saddlebags.

"I didn't even try to offend them, you know," I said quietly. "And now they want to kill me?"

"I heard them talking about it yesterday, yes."

"Oh, that's great. That's just great. Well, I think we'd best be off."

"Of course, milady." Berenglorion quickly stowed the remaining food in a saddlebag and clucked to Elen, his dainty mare. Hasufel followed as she led the way along the Forest Road.

I buried my face in my hands, unable to really believe that somebody wanted to kill me. Then again, I suppose that one can't expect everyone to be happy when you refuse to help them with a governmental coup. On the plus side, no one had actually _tried_ to kill me, so I guess I could count myself lucky. It was still pretty depressing.

The afternoon hours passed in relative silence. All our energies seemed focused on getting out of the forest as quickly as possible. I went over our most likely route in my mind, figuring it would take us a day or so to reach the edge of the forest and perhaps a week more to Minas Tirith. I could spend all that time getting over my crush on Berenglorion.

It was still quite embarrassing to have a crush on him and to have been discovered. I had never told _anyone_ that I had a crush on them. Not Boromir, not Elladan, and _especially_ none of the random boys at school I'd liked for a day or two or 365. I suppose I'm afraid of commitment or something like that, but really it is very unsettling to have liked someone and to find out that they know you like them… and don't like you back. Besides, I didn't want to be rejected. After a while, I just stopped thinking about it.

"Char," I said at length, having turned over a thought in my mind for at least a quarter of an hour, "your friend said last night that things have changed greatly since Legolas returned. I asked how so, and you said you'd tell me later. Well, it's rather more than later, at least in my book. Explain."

The elf shot me an odd look from beneath the hood of his cloak and reined in Elen until we were riding side by side.

"Look, Candorien," he began slowly, "Eryn Lasgalen was not the way you have seen it until she came. No one wore corsets. There were no such things as balls and dances. Everything was simpler and more wholesome."

"Ah. Anything else you feel I ought to know?" I asked quietly, not really surprised by his news. It fit in with all my suppositions.

"Yes." Berenglorion gulped heavily. "It is imperative we get you out of the forest as soon as possible for another reason than a plot against you."

_Oh, really? _I thought, very interested indeed.

"By this time tomorrow, Legolas will be standing on his own again."

I raised an eyebrow. "And how will that be accomplished exactly?"

The elf sighed. "By this time tomorrow, little Miss Mary Elizabeth Katrina Ellen Sara Susana Greenhow will be dead."

**

* * *

**_**finally**_** won our first football game in double overtime. The happiness welling up inside me is huge. Now I must go wait on large families who spill rice, French fries, and fried shrimp tails all over the floor. Let us pray I don't get soy sauce on my lurvely shoes!!!**


	25. And Cue Catastrophe

**Slayer3 - Well, there is a bit of PDA in this chapter, but I don't think that's what you were wanting.**

**i - I like your view. And believe it or not, many of the other reviewers felt somewhat similar. Well, a few of them did.**

**Inwe - You need to update. And I need to stop making enemies. Well, my characters do, at any rate.**

**Disclaimer: My darlings, I own absolutely nothing. If I did own things, I would be ruling the world.**

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"You don't mean… Valar, you do!" Setting heel to flank, I turned Hasufel with a bit of pressure and sent him flying back down the trail.

"Candorien!" My escort charged down after me. "What are you doing?"

"Going to warn her!" I shouted back, hair whipping free from its tie and whacking me in the face.

"Why?" Berenglorion demanded angrily, his mount drawing even with mine.

"Because no matter how terrible a person she is, she doesn't deserve this." I slipped a hand around Changeling in order to keep her on the platform. "No one deserves this. Not even her."

"You're being a stupid child!" the ellon spat, trying to snatch my reins.

Expecting this, I gave Hasufel a small dig in the ribs and sent him veering off to the side just in time.

"I am _not_ being stupid, Berenglorion. I am doing what's right. You should try it sometime."

He stared at me, mouth agape. "Why are you helping her? She makes your life miserable, and you cannot deny that, Candorien. You hate her, and you wish she did not exist. I can see it in your eyes. So why are you helping her?"

"Because I'm human. Because it's the right thing to do. Because I can't let someone die knowing I could have prevented it. I should never have told you the cure for Legolas's infatuation. MEKESSG's death is not worth it. Legolas would never get over it. How do you think he'd feel, knowing you killed a _child_ because of him?"

"You have an odd sense of right," the elf commented.

"_You_ have an odd sense of honor," I countered.

"Candorien, I cannot let you go back there!" Again he made a grab for my reins, and again I avoided him.

"You have nothing to do with it. This is my duty."

"You speak of duty, Candorien? HA! You know nothing of duty. Duty is escorting a _CHILD_ to Gondor when you want to stay home with your lover. Duty is pretending you don't mind losing over a year of your life so her ego isn't hurt."

Feeling the sting of these harsh words, I blinked my eyes furiously to dispel the tears pooling in them. "Duty, _sir_, is more than doing something because you have to. Duty is not obligation. I thought you – an elf! – would know that. Alas that my foolish girl's heart betrayed me. C'mon, Hasufel."

My great grey gelding stretched his long, rangy legs. He tossed his head, flinging coarse mane in my face, and ate up the ground with his far-reaching stride.

"Do you really think you can save her?" Berenglorion asked incredulously, urging Elen to catch up with the horse of the Rohirrim. "Do you really believe you have the power to do that?"

I didn't answer for a while, for Changeling had chosen that moment to dig her toenails into my thigh and climb into my lap. Once she had settled herself, I mulled over the elf's comments and felt murderous. At last I retorted, "Yes, I do. If I have to, I will fight my way to save her. But I doubt that will be necessary. I can talk my way into almost any situation. Are you doubting me, o elf whose bowels are filled with angry choler?" I taunted with a smirk, watching Berenglorion's face contort in rage.

"You are fourteen," he spat as the horses slowed to a walk, resting until they had to run once more. "You cannot save her. Not when the most deadly warriors are against her."

"Have you ever seen me fight, elf?" I inquired mildly, holding Changeling tight to my chest.

"No… not for real."

"Then you cannot judge me. You were not there. You did not see the sun glinting on bloody spears, the bodies of the dead lying in fetid piles like so many cattle, the fair Rohirrim lying broken, their eyes dimmed and music stilled. You did not hear the screams of dying men and horses, the clang and thud of the art of killing, the war cries of the orcs and men of Harad. You did not have to watch," my voice caught, but I pressed on quickly, "to watch friends die, see another friend ready to lay himself in the grave for grief, find out that your eyes are too sad, that you have seen too much." My voice trailed off, and I focused on the ground in front of Hasufel's nose, eyes overbright with tears.

"This is a fool's errand, Candorien." He had not even paused to listen to me.

"Did you not hear me? Look in my eyes, Berenglorion. Look! Do they seem normal to you? Do they seem girlish, childish, _innocent?_"

The elf stared at me in shock, then shook his head slowly.

"Good. You see they aren't. I don't know about you, elf, but I have seen too much death. And I cannot let someone else die when I have the power to stop it. I will not have her blood on my hands."

We rode in silence for several minutes. At last Berenglorion sighed.

"All right," he said wearily, admitting defeat. "I promised to keep you safe. If you will insist upon returning to the caves, then I will escort you there safely. If I must, I will assist you in preventing the death of Lady Mary Elizabeth. But I must ask that you try to use your common sense and not die without good reason. Please?"

"Of course," I answered quickly, pleased that he had stopped being so troublesome. "I am glad you have decided to accompany me."

"Enough talk," the elf declared rather pompously, I thought. "Let us ride."

With a whoop, we nudged our horses on. Both mounts sprang away down the road, sensing our urgency and haste.

I crouched low over the saddle, Changeling back on her platform. Our speedy dash created a wind that teased my hair completely free from its tie and tossed it about carelessly. I could feel the dagger pressed against my chest as well as the other weapons on back or hip. The ellon riding beside me might consider me incompetent, impulsive, and impossible, but I knew I could handle myself.

_After all, _I thought bitterly, _haven't I proved myself? Didn't I watch every time Aragorn and Boromir sparred? Didn't I bear the others' jokes and pranks? I've survived a battle and listened to the stories of my betters. I will never be a Túrin or an Aragorn, and the world knows it, but I will be the best warrior I can be and do what I am able to preserve peace. For I, like Faramir, do not desire war._

"Candorien, my friend, I fear I shall never understand you," Berenglorion ventured after what felt like forever's silence.

"How far have we to go now?"

"An hour."

I nodded, my frank brain already off on a new tangent.

_He mentioned a lover, _my traitorous mind informed me. I groaned and ordered my Voice to shut up. Of course, it didn't. _Did you really think he liked you?_

_No,_ I snapped back, annoyed with its rude teasing.

_But you didn't expect him to have a lover, did you?_

_Just shut it, all right?_

_You're doomed in love, Candorien. You know that, I'm sure._

_I said shut it!_

_You will never find love._

_SHUT YOUR FILTHY BLEEDING PIEHOLE!_

_You still lurve him._

_Stop mocking me, you annoying, bitter Voice of Reason! And I think he might be… not exactly… er… how can I express this politely?_

_Don't be polite; be blunt. You don't do polite. There's no reason to start now._

_I think he's a straight as a purple circle, _I mumbled mentally, feeling the tips of my ears go hot and red.

_It could be, _mused my Voice thoughtfully. _It really could be._

_Just shut it, will you? _I thought angrily, completely in emotional turmoil.

Long before the promised hour was up, we reached the gates of the caves. Dodging Berenglorion's attempted grab once more, I urged Hasufel into a gallop. We charged past the guards and hurtled into the hall. Still acting on impulse, I stood in the stirrups and drew my long dagger from the sheath at my hip. Luckily for me, I found MEKESSG almost at once in the feast hall. Without even waiting for my gelding to slow, I leapt off Hasufel as we came near and ran the rest of the way to her side.

Gasping for breath, I panted, "Mary Elizabeth." Pant. "Had to warn you." Pant. "There's a plot to kill you."

Mary Elizabeth Katrina Ellen Sara Susana Greenhow merely tossed her flaming hair and laughed. Emerald eyes sparkling with a light I did not at _all _appreciate, she laughed again.

"Oh, Candorien," she sighed playfully, eyes still dancing with that strange light. "Candy, Candy, Candy. I already knew. I had hoped you would choose not to reveal your hand – for I knew you would get cold feet – but apparently I was wrong. Now that you've confessed, I am sorry to say I have only one alternative." Clapping her pale, slender hands together, she looked out at me still with those strange eyes.

Behind me, I heard a patter of elven slippers. Someone was coming. More than one someone, by the sound of it.

Sure enough, less than five seconds later, Legolas and Berenglorion came rushing past us.

"What's wrong, meleth nin?" Legolas asked worriedly, throwing me a suspicious glance.

I knew I was a sight. My breath was still coming in heaves, my dagger was clenched tightly in my hands, and Hasufel stood at my shoulder, tousling my already mussed hair with his own somewhat labored breathing. I also knew my eyes were wide and wary, and I could feel the tension in my muscles.

"Candorien has engineered a plot to kill me," she sniffed, wiping away tears.

I gritted my teeth in fury. Why was she saying this? Surely she couldn't be so deluded as to actually believe its truth. Could she? Or did she have some other malicious plan in mind? Close to panic, I sensed my mouth go dry.

"Has she indeed?" spat Legolas venomously, narrowing his eyes at me in hatred. "Are you all right, meleth nin?"

But she ignored him, instead moving over to Berenglorion. The filthy little… orc wrapped an arm around his waist and kissed my friend full on the lips. They broke apart over thirty seconds later. I was counting. Legolas just ignored them.

"You are a disgrace, tithen orch," Berenglorion said cruelly, looking at me as if I were manure on his shoe. His eyes gleamed with hatred.

"Ego mibo orch," I hissed, slowly reaching my daggerless hand back to catch Hasufel's reins. He lipped my hand instead, and I jumped a bit, but thankfully no one noticed.

"Are we all agreed then?" Legolas was still glaring at me with his shining green eyes. Serpent eyes.

"Mellon nin, I trust you… both of you," Berenglorion assured him.

"Then we shall do it." MEKESSG raised her pale arms again and clapped her hands.

At once guards armed to the teeth swarmed to her aid.

"What is it, milady?" one asked nervously, watching me warily out of the corner of his eyes.

"Take this filth off to the dungeons," ordered Legolas with a wave of his hand.

The three of them watched smugly as guards made to clap iron bracelets on me.

But I refused to go down without a fight. My searching hand at last found a hank of mane and the crest of Hasufel's neck. With a quick jump, I sprang into the sadly, squeezing his ribs with my calves. Hasufel's dark eyes seemed to flame, and he reared high, higher than we'd ever gone before, and pawed the air. Changeling leapt off her platform and rushed at the guards, growling ferociously deep in her throat. Neighing furiously, Hasufel spun on his heel, still rearing, and then charged back down the hall towards the gates. The guards stationed there came at us. Panicking, Hasufel reared again and fell onto his side, then struggled to get up. Too late. We were surrounded.

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**Author's Note: So, my first band competition is this Saturday. Wish me luck! And I dive into Silmarillion for the third time, methinks. As always, reviews are appreciated, and flames will be used to roast the opposing football team if we lose this week. Cheers!**

**Authoressinhiding**


	26. An Unexpected Visitor

**Just Me - Trips to Hades sound like fun. And Legolas is way too pretty to kill.**

**Slayer3 - Now, now, dear, there's no need to get all capslock of doom on me.**

** Inwe - A Turk may never go back on her word, but pirates definitely do.**

**i - good thought, but no, it really was MEKESSG. She just had a really odd look in her eyes.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the general ideas and some of the details.**

**A/N: I guess all your well wishes must have worked, because our band got first place in our division at competition last week! Yay! We have another one this Saturday, so pray we make finals!**

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"How humorous," MEKESSG trilled. "Little Candy actually thought she could escape."

Groaning, I pulled my sore leg out from under Hasufel. The gelding staggered to his feet, exhausted. With a deep breath, I caught hold of the pommel and dragged myself up. Hasufel stood with his legs apart, head down, eyes rolling. I leaned against him trying to get my own wind back.

"Take her away," sniffed MEKESSG.

Almost immediately, the guards surrounded me, confiscating my weapons. As they took my sword and dagger, I kicked out furiously, not really knowing what was going on. The elves grabbed my wrists and restrained me while I was searched. Once finished, they attempted to drag me away from Hasufel.

"No!" I shrieked, going into panicking-teenager-mode. "No! Hasufel! Hasufel! Stop it! Let me go back to him, you sons of cockroaches!"

But I was just fourteen and unarmed. The elves merely tightened their adamant grips on me and hauled me off to the cell.

Ten minutes after the scene in the great hall, I was shunted into a cool, dark room that reeked of disuse. Laughing, the elves shut the barred door and went merrily away.

Hearing the clock click in the door but ignoring it, I flung myself against the bars with all my force. My attempt was in vain. I bounced off the door and fell on the cool stone, cursing in Khudzûl. Staggering up, I cast my eyes about the cell, eyes watering from the pain. Aha! There against the far wall sat a long wooden bench.

Grinning, I stumbled over to the bench and gritted my teeth. Lifting one end off the floor, I slowly dragged the heavy thing over to the door, propping it up on my thigh. With a surge of effort, I set the legs of the bench beneath the bars and pushed down. Nothing happened. I tried it again. Again nothing happened. Using all my strength, I shoved the bench one last time. For the third time in a row, the door didn't budge.

Dropping to one knee, I examined the blasted door's hinges.

"D'Arvit!" I was on my feet now, stomping and raging 'round the cell. "D'Arvit! D'Arvit! D'ARVIT!!! Why does no one ever – _EVER! – _use half-pin barrel hinges? Eru! It's not as if they're that uncommon, really! So why is it that no bloody prison ever has half-pin barrel hinges?"

My vision began to go red as I was overcome by a berserk rage. With a cry of pure fury, I slammed my entire body weight against the wooden bench. Still in the hazy rage, I threw myself down on it again. It broke, showering me with painful splinters. I didn't notice. Roaring and screaming, I charged the door only to fall back. Staggering to my feet, I rammed my shoulder into the door and then sank to the floor. A moment later, I rose again, blinded by the red haze that had come over my vision and my own hair, and threw myself against the door again and again until everything became a blaze of pain and crimson fog.

"Candorien. Candorien."

The whispered words drew me back to some remembrance of myself, lying on the cell's cold stone floor.

"Candorien. Can you hear me?"

A small moan escaped from my parted lips, and I pushed myself upward. My right shoulder ached, and I could feel many other cuts and bruises all over my body. Slowly sitting up, I leaned against the closest wall and shook my head blearily to clear it. The last thing I could remember was being thrown into the cell.

"Candorien?" The voice was familiar, but for some reason I just couldn't place it.

"I'm here," I croaked, every word painful to my parched throat. "Who… where… no, who is it?"

"Have you forgotten me so easily?" growled a scratchy, deep voice that reminded me curiously of a bonfire.

"Who is it?" I repeated, looking around the cell wildly, but I could see naught. All the room was in deep, impenetrable shadow.

The voice laughed, and the sound called to mind the crackling of an out-of-control forest fire.

"Who is it? Why, Candorien, I am surprised at you."

"Everyone is sooner or later," I grumbled, feeling extremely cross. "Either surprised or disappointed. Occasionally both."

"You, a disappointment? Never! You did everything we ever planned to do. You rose in the world and showed them the beauty of the unusual and strange. You taught them to love insanity. You have flowered, my dear friend. You will never disappoint me, Candorien," the voice hissed ferociously.

Taken aback by its fervor, my eyes widened. The feeling I should know the voice intensified, but still I could not name my invisible cellmate. Sighing, I stretched out my sore legs, avoiding of what looked to be a shattered wooden bench.

"But come, surely you know me," the voice persisted. "Surely you know my voice, my mind, my power."

"Um, sorry. 'Fraid I don't."

"We met once, child of the wilderness."

"Child of the wilderness? I've never heard that one before. Does being one make me special?" I asked with false eagerness. "Do I get special powers?"

The voice laughed its forest fire laugh, and I felt as if a real fire were warming my backside.

"Special power? HA! I called you a child of the wilderness because you are wild."

"Me, wild? Voice, I'm flattered."

The voice laughed again. "You see, Candorien, you refuse to be tamed. You refuse to conform to what is expected of you."

I nodded thoughtfully, ignoring my sore body. _Got that right. Though I'm not entirely sure that's a good thing…_

"You have never been respectful to your, ehem, betters, no matter how often they have told you to do so. You have never toed the line exactly. You have always made your own decision before obeying others. Do I not know you? Is this not who you are, Candorien? You would rather follow your heart than be normal. You refuse to conform to anyone else's ideas of what is right and proper. Have I not hit the proverbial nail on the head?"

"Perhaps." With a grunt, I stood slowly and stretched, then began to do calf-raises, learned in marching band. "You haven't told me who you are."

"I'm waiting for you to guess," chuckled the voice, sounding like a crackling hearth fire.

"Well, I'd rather not guess. So tell me more about myself, o invisible psychic advisor."

"You fell in love with Boromir of Gondor," the voice said softly yet not unkindly. "You felt you could not take his death, and so, knowing you could not save him, you dove to what seemed your own death. Cowardice, or so I have heard it reckoned. Cowardice and foolishness they say, but no, perhaps not. You were thirteen. Thirteen-year-old mortals do incredibly silly things. Come to think on it, most in that stage do ridiculous deeds. Yours were not so bad, eh, Candorien?"

Having reached 200 in my calf-raise count, I ceased and instead took to arm circles. "How do you know me so well?" I demanded, impatient but not angry.

"Because I have watched you from afar," replied the voice. "I have watched your fortunes and championed your cause in the ears of any who would listen, though they laughed and called me buffoon for my care. 'Just a mortal', they called. 'Of no importance to us or to you'. And, marry, they have their point, but you are not wholly so unimportant as all that, eh? You are quite a strange child, Candorien."

"And you are quite a strange shadowy voice," I singsonged, dropping to the floor for my band-nerd equivalent of push-ups, which sadly fell far short of the real thing.

The voice chuckled in his crackly way again.

"Come now," I persisted. "Who in all of Arda are you? It's quite rude not to announce yourself, you know."

The voice laughed.

"For Eru's sake, stop with the laughing already," I growled, getting to my feet.

"Very well."

The shadows seemed to condense, swirling together as if to cloak a form. Gradually they spun out and around the core of shadowy substance. Some tornadoed down to form stumpy, muscular legs and what looked like a long, scaly tail. Others flew upwards, creating broad, powerful shoulders, a horned head almost like that of a ram, and large, powerful forearms. The behemoth creature raised its head and cried, a harsh sound somehow like both the cawing of a raven and the strike of hammer on anvil. A dull, cherry-red glow began to form, beginning in the giant's chest and spreading out along his arms and legs. As it moved, the glow intensified until parts were white with flame and heat. At last the creature stood fully formed, not ten feet from me, and I recognized what – and who – it was.

"Bob?"


	27. A Trifle No Longer

**Mariano's Twins – I see you are very happy to see Bob. So am I.**

**Just Me – I hope you enjoy the third-degree burns you got from glomphing my Balrog.**

**Lizzy – Indeed, it will. Whether in a good way or a bad one is yet to be determined.**

**Hippie Jade – Yes, Bob is back.**

**Inwe – When will people learn not to hug, glomph, and flying tackle spirits of fire? All they get is burned.**

**Shivera – Totally unexpected, yep, that's me.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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The Balrog stared down at me impassively, giving his fiery whip a lazy flick every few seconds.

"Hello, Candorien," he said evenly after several minutes of such scrutiny. "It's been quite a while, hasn't it?"

Gulping nervously, I nodded and kept my eyes fixed on the Maiar in front of me.

"Oh, come on," the Balrog laughed wildly. "Surely you have a thousand questions for me."

I did, and it hurt my pride that he could see through me so easily. "Okay, so I do. If you're so smart, you guess the questions."

Bob smiled superiorly. "You're wondering what I'm doing here."

"Obviously."

"I don't really know."

I clapped a hand to my forehead and sank onto the floor.

"One minute I was torturing an elf in the Halls of Mandos, the next I was here in this cell staring at an unconscious mortal. You know, if this whole thing is your fault, then I would like to remind you that it is much more fun to torture an elf that – what's that word you people use? Ah, yes – than to baby-sit a child."

"I thought so," I replied absently. "So… what's it like there? The Halls of Mandos, I mean."

The Balrog chuckled. "You'll find out one day, young lady. Until then, I shall leave you to wonder."

"It's not as if I'll be going to see Mandos when I die, you know," I told him in a wheedling tone. "My world and religion believe in a different afterlife. So really, there'd be no harm done. Come on, Bob," I begged. "Please? For your bestest friend Candorien?" I stuck out my lower lip and let it tremble for a while before continuing. "You know you want to."

"No," the Balrog replied mulishly. "I do not. Do not tempt fate, Candorien. If you die here in this world, you will go to Mandos. So do not ask me any further questions about that place."

I narrowed my eyes and frowned, not at all pleased.

"But I do have a message for you," Bob smiled. A Balrog's smile is quite a disconcerting thing, and I was momentarily taken aback.

"Oh, really? Who sent it?"

"A Boromir, son of Denethor," he announced, looking bored.

My heart leapt up into my throat, and I gulped. "A message for me? From Boromir?"

"Yes. Would you like to hear it?"

I shrugged, trying hard not to let him see my quaking nerves. "I suppose so."

The Balrog waved his hands dramatically. A puff of steam appeared in front of him, and in the steam there seemed to be a likeness of a man. A man who looked exactly like Boromir had the last time I had seen him.

"Candorien," sighed the voice.

"Yes?" I wasn't even trying to hide my trembling. I could feel all my resolves and barriers and strength falling to pieces as I gazed into his keen gray eyes. I had believed myself to be over the dead Gondorian man. Curse my teenage hormones for keeping me in love with a dead guy.

"Candorien," the voice of the apparition continued, "remember the rules. Trust your heart and your instincts. Do what you know to be right. Be strong. And perhaps one day we may truly meet again."

I nodded, swallowing the lump that had suddenly appeared in my throat.

The cloud of hazy steam vanished as if blown away by an invisible wind. I leaned against the wall, remembering days walking and sharing tales with Men and Hobbits, and began to hum softly.

"The man mentioned rules," Bob said at length, watching me oddly from the opposite corner of the cell. "What rules?"

"Boromir's rules." I wasn't really paying attention to him – too distracted, I fear, by my heart's troubled state. "Yes. There were about ten in all, I believe."

"Ah. Boromir's rules about what?"

"Just general rules. I try to obey them, mostly, but I doesn't always work out."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I think there's one about not acting on impulse. I tend to disregard it. Frequently."

"Well, you are very young. It is hard for children to control themselves."

I let this pass. Elves and Balrogs… they were really all the same, when one came straight down to it. They all seemed to indulge us mortals for their own amusement, as if we were nothing more than passing fancies. They were nice to us – if they felt like it – but really we were little more than trifles to them. Interesting, intriguing, impossible, even, but still mere trifles.

_Well, _I thought, running a hand along my heart pendant. A grin lit up my face as I discovered the eager elf guards had missed my hidden dagger in their haste to deposit me in my cell. _Well, buckos, this trifle is going to cause a bit more than trifling troubles. Maybe even a bit of chaos. It's been too long since I made some mayhem. Some serious mayhem. This place has been turned on its head. It needs a good bit of my type of trouble to fix it… or to cause half the kingdom to die of shock. _Removing the dagger from its cord, I unsheathed it and played with the way light was reflecting off the blade. _These prissy stuck up elves are about to get a wake up call._

"Bob, do you still have your sword?"

The Balrog nodded majestically. "Of course. Why?"

"Eryn Lasgalen isn't exactly right," I told him quietly, keeping one eye on the door to the cell. "Do you remember _Her_?"

"The girl you disliked? Yes." He sighed. "I am afraid I do. What has she done now?"

"She has nearly all of the elves under her spell. A few outside of it tried to kill her, and I warned her of the plot only to be thrown in jail." I scowled. "It doesn't always pay off, you know. Doing the right thing and all that."

"I've never thought so."

"So there you have it. I'm in a cell, Little Miss Perfect's turning all of Mirkwood topsy-turvy, and the seed of the line of Oropher is making a fool not only of himself but of all the wood elves. And the worst part is, my dear Balrog friend, I don't believe it is the poor elf's fault at all. He's just a regular elf who has the misfortunes of being a king's son and being named in one of the greatest novels ever written."

"You like him."

"Perhaps. But not enough to cloud my judgment. Anyways, Bob, I like most men and elves in Middle-earth. This place has so many handsome ones." I smiled dreamily. "Back to business. Mirkwood needs help. And I think you and I could do an admirable job of it."

"What are you suggesting?" The flames in the pits of his eyes were growing in both size and intensity. "Do you have…" he paused momentarily, "a plan?"

"But of course. Only… I'm not entirely sure my objectives are what they should be."

"Are they ever?"

"Well, no. But this time…well, I'm worried."

"Why?" He was watching me carefully now.

"Because I want to fix the situation, not make it worse. I have the terrible habit of doing exactly that, you know."

"You just want to have some fun," Bob said reprovingly.

"Yes, I suppose so. But my main goal is to rescue Legolas." _And Berenglorion,_ I added silently, feeling my stomach tighten as I became nervous

"You really like him."

To this I made no reply. Instead, I massaged my temples and paced about the cell, mind whirring. Unconsciously, I began to hum. "He's a Pirate" and tap my sword's empty sheath along to the beat.

"Do _you_ have a weapon?" Bob asked at random.

Still humming and pacing, I showed him my dagger.

"That isn't enough," he announced flatly. "Surely you carry more than a strumpet's revenge. have a weapon?" Bob asked at random.

Still humming and pacing, I showed him my dagger.

"That isn't enough," he announced flatly. "Surely you carry more than a strumpet's revenge. It is unlike a Ranger or elf to let their charge stray thus."

I looked at him sourly. "They stole my sword and dagger. Filthy little elves. I swear, if I ever get out of this ruddy forest, I am going to have as little to do with elves as possible. If I can wangle it thus, anyway." Without another word, I returned to my humming at the exact point I had left it.

"We shall have to find them."

I nodded, still humming.

"Your horse and hound as well, I suppose."

Once more I nodded.

"Do you know where they are?"

"No, but they will come. Hasufel and Changeling answer to my call. Once I am freed, if I but call, they shall come with trumpets and cries. Dost thou disbelieve my word?" I was joking on the last bit, but they would come. I knew it.

"No. You have a strange ability to love."

I looked up from my pacing, still humming, and inclined my head gracefully.

"Strange, but very useful, so long as you don't love the wrong person. But come, how now, Candorien? What is your plan?"

I finished the last few bars of my song and stood resolutely in the middle of the cell, hands braced on hips, legs well apart: the perfect image of Sam. Grinning evilly, I slipped my dagger's sheath into my pouch and held the slender knife easily in one hand. It was but the work of a moment to kneel and jimmy the cell's lock open with my knife. It wasn't particularly complicated. Easy, even.

Pushing the door open, I rose and turned to face Bob. "My plan is this: one, find all my possessions. Two, find _Her._ Three… cause chaos."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks again for all your well-wishes for my band. We got 2nd in our division and 8th in finals. We have another contest this weekend, so wish us luck! Hope you enjoy the chapter! As always, reviews are appreciated, and flames will be used to make Bob a toga. He really wants one. Why, I have no idea. But he does. **

**Until next time,**

**Authoressinhiding**


	28. Lack of Interference

**Inwe – Oh, yeah, you've got fire magic. Way to rub it in.**

**Just Me – You and Slayer3 really ought to get together. Both of you are after shippiness.**

**Shinobu – Thanks. I'm glad you're enjoying the story.**

**Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. Except Candorien…and Changeling… and Bob….every third Wednesday… oh, yeah. I own **_**her.**_

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Bob glanced from me to the open cell door and back to me again.

"You are full of surprises, Candorien," the Balrog rumbled.

Laughing, I ducked out the cell door and threw back my head to let out a shrieking cry. It seemed to echo along the hallway, filling the passage with its wild, dangerous sound. Lowering myself to the ground, I put an ear to the floor and listened hard. The sound of soft hoof beats came dimly to me, and I rose, brushing the dirt from my trousers.

"Hasufel is on his way," I announced wickedly, waiting for the Balrog to exit the cell. "Changeling should be her in three… two… one… ah."

The black-and-white hound barreled towards me, tongue lolling.

"Hello, love." I bent down and picked her up. The ungrateful mutt licked my face ecstatically. "Ready for some fun, Changeling?"

She yipped softly and jumped down.

"Okay, Bob, time to go."

The Balrog followed me out of the cell and stood calmly, a faraway look in his eye. "Your horse is quite close now."

"I know. Do you think he's smart?"

"Smart enough to avoid capture."

Before anything else could be said, Hasufel came charging down the passage, trailing a tether and looking extremely pleased with himself. I pulled myself up onto his back, wrapping the tether around the palm of one hand, and wound the fingers of my other hand in his mane. The grey gelding snorted and stomped, anxious to get away. My face lit up in an evil grin, Berenglorion's dagger clenched in my teeth pirate-style. It felt so darn good to be causing trouble for civilized people again.

"Where to?"

"You're the Maiar. You tell me."

"We are to find _her_." Bob grew in size and semblance of power, causing Changeling to cower under my horse's belly and Hasufel to plunge nervously, eyes rolling.

"Yes. Can I go ahead… find my weapons, tack, and all that? Only, you're frightening Hasufel, and I'm still not entirely sure he belongs to me, and he is a fine horse, don'cha know. That and Changeling just peed on Thranduil's nice floor."

"Go," bellowed the Balrog, becoming even larger and more powerful. I could feel Hasufel quaking beneath me. "Go and do what you must. But I will not wait for long."

"Don't wait at all, if you can help it. I must hie away, but you will help me ere the end. I shall meet you in the king's hall. Farewell."

I clucked to Hasufel, and he sprang away, over-eager. Changeling flew after us, baying loudly as we hurtled along the passage. I leaned in close to the gelding's neck in order to avoid bonking my head on the low, plastered ceiling. We were leaving marks on the stone floor; Hasufel's hard hooves sent sparks flying with every turn.

Part of me was still in a state of shock. Bob was here, we were out of the cursed cell, and somehow I was galloping bareback through Thranduil's caves and no one was trying to stop me. Something was definitely off, but there wasn't time to figure it out now. I needed to get my weapons back. Still, this lack of interference was becoming increasingly suspicious.

Frowning slightly, I directed Hasufel towards my room and leapt off as soon as we reached the door. It was the same place with a soft, creamy plastered walls, a cushy pallet in one corner, a mirror along the wall, a chest, and a desk complete with chair. None of my things were to be seen. Cursing softly under my breath, I dashed out of the room and vaulted onto Hasufel again.

"Supper time, Hasufel! Go to the stables!" The gelding twitched an ear back to listen to me and then began to trot down the hallway. "Hasufel! If you don't get there now, I'm turning you into dog food!"

The trot became a swift canter, and I tightened my grip on the dagger. It was hard to talk around it, but the small cuts I was getting didn't sting too badly, so I persevered.

Upon reaching the stables, Hasufel came to a halt outside his stall. I slid off and scrambled around the stable, looking for my tack and things. Luckily, someone had dumped them all in a heap in one of the empty stalls. With a sigh of relief, I tenderly sheathed my sword and larger dagger, slung quiver and flute onto my back, and heaved saddle, pad, and bridle over a shoulder.

"Sorry, Hass," I murmured, tacking up as quickly as I could. "No food now. We have work to do." After racing back to grab my bow, I swung up in to the saddle, hid my "strumpet's defense" back inside my tunic, and squeezed the grey's ribs, full of reckless fury. "Let's go make some trouble."

We tore out of the stable in a clatter and crossed the soft, hoof-marked loam back to the front gates. Strangely, they opened for me once more, and Hasufel trotted hastily towards the great hall.

The nasty feeling in the pit of my stomach that something was wrong kept growing. The halls were never this empty even on the slowest of days. That there should be no one around when a teenage mortal was riding a warhorse at breakneck speed through the king's stronghold was really odd. Even as Hasufel stumbled and I had to catch hold of his mane to keep from falling, I worried about the lack of affronted elves. Somebody, at least, ought to have stopped me by now. For pity's sake, I shouldn't have been able to get the lock open with a dagger. I am _not_ a professional lock picker-thingy.

Suddenly, we heard a low, rumbling cry of pain.

"Bob!" I urged Hasufel on, and we took the last corner before the great hall at a dead run, nearly toppling over as we did so.

The king's hall was filled with rows of standing elves. All of them seemed to have a slightly glazed look in their eyes. Standing proudly on the dais, MEKESSG had raised her arms up to the high ceiling. She was chanting in a tongue that seemed to burn the ears of all who heard her. Cowering on the floor before her was Bob. He seemed to be diminishing in size and power until he vanished with a soft _pop_! MEKESSG leapt off the dais and strode towards me.

"Well done, Candorien," she said with a bow. "I am proud of you. You have passed my test."

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**Author's Note: Yes, I know it's a short chapter, but I've got church and Biology. Thanks for all the reviews! Got 2nd at our last contest. Was our 1st week with our third piece, and some really good schools were there. Hope you enjoy it!**

**Note to Self: Do not mention that flames will be used for interesting, entertaining, or destructive causes. You will not be happy. **

** Until Next Time,**

**Authoressinhiding  
**


	29. Curious Answers

**Slayer3 – Stay away from Capslock. You do not need it.**

**Just Me – I am surprised that you still have sanity. In this chapter I shall (perhaps) try to restore it.**

**Inwe – Fire magic bad. And there is always hope.**

**Disclaimer: I own everything! I own everything::is shot by lawyers:: Okay, so maybe I don't.**

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I stared at her in shocked amazement, felling Hasufel tremor beneath me. Still curious as to what the heck was going on, I dismounted smoothly and dropped my reins before advancing towards her. The rows of elves seemed spellbound still, none of them bothering to take even the slightest notice of me as I passed them on my way towards MEKESSG. I had begun to drum my fingers on the hilt of my sword unconsciously, and I felt conspicuously open and vulnerable.

"So," I hissed softly, trying not to let my discomfort show in my voice, "you say I have passed your test. What test?"

MEKESSG laughed lightly, tossing her mane of fiery hair. "Candorien, we are alike, you and I."

"I bear no resemblance to you," I said firmly, finding all attempts to squash my rising panic to be in vain.

"I didn't say that. I said we were alike." She frowned, as if in thought, but even her frown was lovely, as always. "You must learn to listen, Candorien. Listen, or you will never get anywhere. I have a great many things to tell you, my friend, but we cannot proceed unless you listen, all right?"

MEKESSG watched me impatiently, waiting for an answer. I glared back at her resentfully, but at last there was nothing else to do but listen to her, so I gave my word to do so. Quite calmly now, she took me by the elbow and led the way over to the dais, where we both took our seats. I sat facing her with my arms locked around my knees, glancing around at the semi-comatose elves and resisting the urge to start twisting a lock of my hair around and around my index finger. MEKESSG settled herself cross-legged across from me, watching me with the catlike intensity I had come to associate with elves.

With a deep breath, she began, "You are wondering what is going on. You wonder how this room came to be, how it is, how you were able to escape and come here, how I had power to banish that Balrog friend of yours. It's all on that honest, expressive face of yours, dear Candorien. You are angry yet curious against your will. You can barely contain yourself. So I shall do my best to enlighten you, though it is a long explanation I must now give." She paused and glanced searchingly around the room with her keen emerald eyes, then returned that startling gaze to my face.

"I am not a normal girl, Candorien, as I am sure you realize – I have powers… powers to make men want me, to change the world around me as I see fit, to do whatever it is I so desire with whosoever or whatever suits my fancy. Do not make the mistake of thinking my desires are provincial, Candy. I have entranced many men under many skies in many guises. After one such conquest, I chose to turn my hand to Legolas Thranduilion. I found you in the way. You attempted in vain to keep me from him – to save him, or so you thought – and did your best to free him from memory of me after my unfortunate demise." She looked down to study her immaculate nails, apparently finished with her study of my features.

"But I am back," MEKESSG announced coldly. "I am back, and so, incidentally, are you. You have proved yourself more capable and mature than I would have expected from a girl with such a nondescript appearance. And, perhaps, you have begun to come into your own power and beauty. You possess the ability to manipulate others and to intrigue and capture the attention of males."

I shot her an odd look from under my brows. Until this last comment, I had been mostly merely listening and reflecting, but her words now yanked me back to the surface.

"Berenglorion always enjoyed being in your company," MEKESSG said softly. She was watching me again. "He didn't quite know why, but there was something about you that called out to him. You had a certain air, perhaps, or you reminded him of something he cannot recall. Legolas, too, felt you to be worthy of notice. You cannot quite draw them to you the way I do, not yet, but I am sure you will grow further into your powers later. We have talked too much of this now, however, and I fear I have not lessened enough of your insatiable curiosity. You still wonder about our present situation, do you not?"

I nodded slowly, still turning her uncomfortable words over in my mind, exploring their strange taste and feel.

"Well, then. Let us sit for a while longer, and I shall tell you." MEKESSG paused again, obviously for effect this time. Unwarranted effect, I thought. She had no need for such obvious ploys. "I wanted to test you. To see if you were as resilient and connected as you ought to be, if you wanted to maintain your high idea of yourself. To be nice, I let you have it easy. The lock was simple, and it was no hard task to escape. You, however, decided to do so in style. You tore through the caves on a galloping war mount and somehow managed to bring a Balrog into this place." She shook her head slowly in wonder. "A Balrog! Luckily for me, I had the powers to banish it. How you succeeded in getting one here, I doubt anyone will ever know."

"Bob and I are on quite excellent terms," I informed her matter-of-factly, proud of my friendship with the Balrog. "I had no real need for him, but he came all the same."

"Hmm." MEKESSG's eyes performed a strange flick up to my face before she returned to staring at her nails. "Yes," she said at last, still studying her perfectly manicured hands, "you are quite like me, and you have passed the test, proving yourself more capable than I would have guessed. Come now. We have much to do to prepare you for leaving for Gondor. Now that you have caused a stir, it will be somewhat hard than I had foreseen, but I shall manage, as always."

"To Gondor?" I asked dumbly, still reeling from all I had heard. "Still?"

"Of course, Candy. What did you expect me to do, keep you here so rumors might grow about your unorthodox jaunt on Èomer's warhorse?" Mary Elizabeth Katrina Ellen Sara Susana Greenhow rose gracefully and beckoned for me to follow.

Shaking my head, I did as she requested. My muscles had become sore during our short parley, and there was nothing to do but grit my teeth and stride quickly after MEKESSG, my fingers once again tapping the hilt of my sword. It took less than a minute for MEKESSG to cross the hall and then start down the passage towards her rooms. I paused long enough to collect my gelding and then hastened to catch up. For some reason, it felt imperative that I do so. Something told me that MEKESSG had not yet revealed all her secrets, and it seemed also that a few at least of those had a deal to do with me. My innate curiosity demanded to know what information she was withholding, and so I did my best to keep pace with her long, speedy stride.

"You will be accompanied by Berenglorion, of course," MEKESSG said abruptly, startling me from my silent, curious thoughts.

I must have looked surprised, for she continued, "Don't look so startled now, Candorien. He is still your friend, even if I have won a kiss or two from him. And I would rather not make a huge stir at present, so you will leave as soon as possible with only one guard, as before. Besides, I believe the two of you have several things to talk about.

I shot her a nasty look, which was promptly ignored. We walked on in silence, Hasufel and Changeling patiently following at my shoulder. I had no idea of our whereabouts, having been inattentive during the first bit of our trek, but my mind was slowly beginning to whir as I mulled over everything I had heard from KEESSG.

She had said we were alike. The mere idea of such a situation filled me with disgust, yet a small, unbiased part of me said she was right. We _were_ similar, perhaps. I knew I did not hate her as much has I once had, and destroying her no longer seemed the main priority I was unsure what her aims were, and that bothered like a score of midges all going after me at once. Part of me yearned to trust her, to take the acceptance and friendship she had carelessly dangled in front of my nose, but something deep inside whispered caution and not to act until I was sure of her. Hasufel kept on eye trained on her and both ears pricked forwards, calling to mind the image of a giant, gray equine guard dog. Changeling, too, seemed on edge. The fur on the back of her neck had risen to form a ruff, and her mouth was open in a silent snarl.

I sighed inwardly and thought with longing – and not for the first time – of the simple old Fellowship days when an orc was an orc and a seditious golden Ring the most deadly peril. I missed those days, knowing who I was and what my goals were. AS things stood now, I felt lost and confused, separated from all of my real friends from the Fellowship and nostalgic for those gone on.

"Candorien."

I glanced upwards, startled. Ewe had apparently arrived at our destination, which I immediately recognized as the stables.

"Well, come on." MEKESSG was already through the door, so I hurried in after, Hasufel nudging me with his soft nose. Once inside MEKESSG led us to an old foaling stall and unlatched the door. "You'll sleep in there tonight," she informed me quickly, "and Berenglorion will come in the morning. The two of you ought to make an early start."

Nodding, I swept the stall with my eyes. There was a manger full of grain and a water bucket in one corner. The floor was piled with clean straw, and several jars of a green, honey-like salve were shelved along the far wall.

"For all those cuts and bruises of yours," MEKESSG explained, noticing my glance. "Really, Candorien. You make me wonder if there's Berserker blood in you. Though how a middle-class Midwestern American band nerd could end up being a Berserker is far beyond me."

I made no reply for a long while, mind occupied elsewhere. Hasufel pushed past me into the stall and began to munch on the oats with an air of self-satisfied contentment, tail swishing slowly. I stared at him in mute fascination, not really seeing the gelding for all my intensity.

"What about dinner?"

"Hmm? Oh, someone will bring it along later tonight. Now, hurry into the stall." MEKESSG shunted my dog and me into the stall and quickly shoved the door to, leaving me alone with my animals and my thoughts.

What followed seemed at first to be the longest night of my life. I just sat in the straw, knees pulled up to my chin, and thought. Hasufel had settled himself down beside me, and I was painstakingly combing through his tangled mane with my fingers. The stall was your run-of-the-mill English box stall with a now-empty manger. Changeling lay curled up at my feet, and occasionally I would pause in my untangling and stroke her curly black and white fur, turning her ears inside out as I did so.

Several hours after MEKESSG had left, some random ellon I didn't know brought me dinner and a saddlebag's worth of food for the road. It was venison and bread and cheese and a type of cider, all of which I devoured quickly and with relish. The elf waited until I had finished and then took my tray and left with a bow.

Not long after that, I began to feel drowsy, and soon I had curled up against Hasufel's back and fallen asleep.

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**Author's Note: Sorry it took me a while to update. Got busy and distracted. Our marching season is over, and it ended on a sad note. We never peaked. Hope you enjoy this little answering chapter. The next one will be back to rousing questions again.**


	30. SlapHappy!

**Shivera – You know me. Do you honestly think I would purposefully turn Candorien into a Sue?**

**Slayer3 – No killing until the story is over. Savvy?**

**Sea Green – I can't kill MEKESSG till I'm done with her. And I'm not quite done yet. I do know where I'm going with the story… I think.**

**Just Me – You know that 1) life isn't fair, and that 2) that would never happen in one of my stories. I would never give you everything without trouble. **

**Arya Svit'kona Shur'tagal - I thank you for your kind compliments.**

**Disclaimer: I own Candorien and half the plot devices. The other half belong to Legolas Thranduilion's Plot Bunny Foundation, patent pending. Thank you for reading… on to the story!**

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I woke to find myself leaning against someone as we moved to a gentle rocking beat. Their arms encircled my waist, and I had been wrapped in a cloak. It was pitch black. The darkness was so thick I could nearly touch it. As everything gradually became less fuzzy, I realized where I was. _I must have been drugged and slipped out of the stall in the middle of the night, _I thought slowly, recognizing the familiar smell that enveloped me like a warm blanket: lavender, horses, and something altogether elvish.

"Char?" The word did not come easily. It was difficult to form thoughts, let alone sentences. "Char, what is going on?"

"I'm taking you to Gondor," the elf murmured in my ear, leaning forwards so as to make as little noise as possible. "Lady Mary Elizabeth Katrina Ellen Sara Susana Greenhow's orders. Sorry for drugging you. There was no other choice."

"Hasufel? Changeling?" I was ignoring his mention of _Her_ and drugging, at least for now. I was still drowsy, wrapped warmly in his cloak and held in the saddle by his grip around my waist. My mind had not yet cut through the sea of fog surrounding it, so I was unable to think clearly.

"We're riding Hass," he informed me softly, "and Changeling is tethered to Elen's saddle behind us. Are you," the ellon paused uncertainly, "all right?"

"Fine," was all I said aloud, but inwardly I thought, _Of course not. You betray me, let me be sent into prison, kiss _Her! _You were supposed to be my friend, and I bloody trusted you, boy! I still love you, regardless of how you feel about me. Don't you know it broke my heart to see you kiss her?_

"Are you sure?" Berenglorion pressed me.

I knew he was watching me carefully, waiting for the slightest sign I was lying. This … concealing of my emotions, if you will, was going to take tact, diplomacy, and a good deal of chicanery.

"Quite. Char, really." I chuckled, and Valar be praised, it didn't sound forced. "Must you always be worrying about me?"

The elf laughed softly in my ear. "Someone has to worry about you, Candorien. Someone has to keep you in line and out of trouble."

_Which you seem currently unable to do, _I thought venomously. _In fact, nearly all the trouble I've gotten in recently could have been prevented by your actions. And none of it was._

"Oh, I think I can manage to keep myself in hand quite well all by my lonesome, don't you?"

"You could," he conceded quietly. "But you rarely do."

"That, my lord, is because I have no incentive to do so."

He laughed again. This new Berenglorion was really starting to bother me, and I found myself wishing he were on his own horse and his arms not locked around my waist. The drug had nearly worn off, and I was beginning to feel peevish and annoyed. Not a good combination for my temperament.

Unable to keep my temper in check a moment longer, I burst out, "Where the bloody word-I-don't-say are we?"

"On the Forest Road, of course. Honestly, Candorien, whatever is the matter with you?"

"Fop," I grumbled under my breath, not even trying to be quiet. "Prig. Sissy boy running after the pretty girl like she was a dog in heat." There once was a time when my own vulgarity would have shocked me, but I was too offset by what had been going on around me to notice or care. "Turncoat. Fair-weather friend. Cur. Scuzzball. Not worthy of being called a pirate. Get off my horse, sir!"

All maturity I once believed myself to possess had vanished. I was being dramatic and furious and loud, if only to keep from being seen as the lonely, confused, scared girl I knew myself to be. Consequences be darned, I was going to act how I felt without restraint and take what was coming to me.

"Candorien….? I… I…."

"Get. Off. Hasufel. NOW."

My voice was cool and civil, my back ramrod straight.

"Candorien! Come on now. Be reasonable."

"Hasufel, my darling horse, dump the elf, if you would be so kind." I had had quite enough of being reasonable.

The great grey gelding swung his head around and gave me a long look with his wise twinkling eyes as if to ask me if I really desired what I'd asked for. I nodded quickly and tightened my legs about his belly, winding my hands in his fine mane. Hasufel reared wildly, beating the air with his hooves. The horse thrashed from side to side, bucking and twisting in an attempt to unseat Berenglorion. The elf held my shoulders in a painful vise, and I moved with Hasufel, cursing in Khudzul strong enough to make a sailor's ears burn.

"Candorien! Stop your horse, curse you!"

"Let go of me, orch! Foul spawn of Morgoth. Get off my horse, and I will try to calm him down."

"Candorien! I…"

"Get off, and then we'll talk," I shouted above the din both horses and the dog were making. "I swear it."

Accepting defeat, Berenglorion leapt off Hasufel's back. Immediately, the gelding stopped plunging and stood quietly, eyes half-closed lazily. I slid back into the saddle and dismounted painfully, wincing as I forced myself to move after having been stiff so long.

"What is the meaning of this?" Berenglorion demanded, all priggish.

I shot him a look of deepest loathing. "I refuse to be taken on a journey without being informed of it first… especially by you!"

The ellon got a terribly hurt look in his eyes that made me feel sick inside. "But, Candorien, I thought we were friends."

"_Were_ being the key word there," I snapped. "You aren't who I thought you were, mate. It seems as if there are two of you inside that body. Sometimes I feel completely comfortable around you and can have a marvelous time, but then it's as if I am the pimple on the wart on the posterior of humanity to you. To be frank, half the time I'm not sure I can trust you. Trust is a big deal to me, kid. I will not go with you anywhere, let alone to Gondor, until I can do so."

"You are being rather demanding," he pouted.

This was the outside of enough. Ignoring my stiff muscles, I marched the few feet that lay between us and slapped the elf full on across the face. His head jerked to one side, and the elf staggered back, looking horrified.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean that I've had it! I want you to be sincere and honest and sarcastic and engaging." My voice dropped several decibels, and I whispered, "Like you used to be."

The ellon watched me in silence for several moments. I stood obstinately, arms folded across my chest, scowling as I tried to keep the tears back. Suddenly a hand reached out and touched my shoulder. Since I was practically unable to see anything in the black-hole-ish darkness, this completely surprised me, and I jumped what felt like three feet into the air. It was that bloody Berenglorion.

"You're right," he said slowly, advancing until he was inches from me. "I have not been honest with you or treated you as I ought." The elf sighed. "Candorien, I have cause to believe that MEKESSG's life is in danger once more."

I sent a death glare of DOOM the ellon's way. "If it is, I think she is quite capable of handling things, don't you?" I'd had enough of being nice and doing the right thing. I was being mercenary and saving my own skin.

_Anyways, _I thought viciously, _it's about time someone worried about _me _for a change._

"Candorien, can you abandon her without the slightest regret?" Char asked incredulously.

"Yep. I'm good wif' it. Though I ought to have realized you'd care, seeing as how you love her _so _much. Was that the lover you were speaking of earlier, by the way?"

The sharp intake of breath and uncomfortable silence that followed left me feeling rather prickly.

"No," Berenglorion announced at last. "At least she wasn't, but now…. Oh, Eru, what have I done?"

The elf threw himself on me. He shook with what seemed to be paroxysms of grief. I sighed and rolled my eyes expressively. Really, sometimes one can be _too _dramatic. Pushing the overly hysterical ellon away from me with one hand, I slapped him across the face once more with the other.

"Pull yourself together, man! You are a captain in Thranduil's host, not some ruddy watering pot to be emptied at the slightest jounce. Good grief, man – elf! You haven't even been jilted yet, surely. Or you would never be acting this way. Valar, you disgust me. Supposed to be a fine, upstanding elf… and here you are crying on me. You don't cry on me! No one cries on me! It's taboo, not right, not in accordance with form! If you want to cry, just go find little Miss Mary Elizabeth Katrina Ellen Sara Susana Greenhow and we her gown with your tears. I, for one, will not condone such crying. It is an immature, selfish habit, and it does no one any good."

"Can… Candorien," the elf sputtered. "I had no idea you" –

"Were so impertinent? Really, Berenglorion, you astound me."

"Forgive me, but that is not what I was going to say," he informed me. In the dim starlight, I could just make out a hand reaching up to touch his cheek, as if it burned him. I rather hoped it did. "I was going to say I had no idea you felt so strongly about tears."

"Tears are fine, when there is due cause for them, and sometimes the only thing to do _is_ to cry yourself to sleep, but…" I shrugged, sure the elf could see my every movement. "There _is_ such a thing as too many tears with no good cause, you know."

"I know. Candorien?"

"Whaaaat?"

"I … am sorry for my past behavior these last few days. It has been awful."

I stepped up on impulse and threw my arms about the elf, hugging tight. "No need to fret. MEKESSG has that effect on everyone. If she focuses all her… abilities on one particular person… well, how are we mortals able to fend her off? Don't worry. All is forgiven." I wasn't really sure about this, but it couldn't hurt to say it.

Surprisingly, Berenglorion hugged me back. "I'm still not sure bringing you back to Mirkwood with me was a good idea," he admitted dryly, sounding like the old Char I knew so well once more. "I should probably have just shot you two in the forest and so preserved the peace of my kingdom."

"But then I'd be dead, and you would be bored, and Mandos would start misusing his powers due to stress," I said innocently.

Berenglorion laughed sincerely this time, and surprisingly I had no urge to punch him.

"Char?" I stepped back, slightly perturbed by an old problem that had just resurfaced.

"Yes, Candorien?" The elf looked down at me inquisitively yet not unkindly.

"We really ought to go warn what's-her-face, oughtn't we?"

The elf hugged me again and sighed, sounding very weary. "Yes, Candorien, I suppose we had."

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**Author's Note: Okay, I'm sure you guys are thinking "What the hey is she doing?" Trust me, I know what I'm doing. And you'll like it. We may not get to Gondor, but I think you'll have fun on the ride anyways. Hang in there. The climax is yet to come.**

**All my love,**

**Authoressinhiding**


	31. Back in the Slammer

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.. but I wish I owned rum... that would be good.**

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It was with a renewed sense of quiet companionship that we rode back to the caves in he dark. Our horses trotted eagerly side by side, and occasionally our legs brushed. The first few time this happened, one or both of us jumped. After a while, though, we got used to it. Berenglorion took to humming off-key again. It was a strange, repetitive little melody, and after five minutes of it, I joined in, humming softly at first but soon growing louder. The elf shot me an odd look when he noticed, but as it was doing my best to appear fazed out (an easy thing for any girl with my mental faculties) he soon looked down and forgot it.

Changeling, once again perched on her leather platform, had laid her head down on her paws in an attempt to get a quiet bit of sleep before the action began. Hasufel and Elen slowly sped up to a gallop. I crouched over the saddle, my dirty blond mane whipping into my face at random intervals. Berenglorion rode beside me, standing upright in his stirrups, grinning in that odd way he had.

"Candorien?"

"Aye?"

"Thank you. For not letting me be. For reminding me of what it was to be young and emotional and impulsive."

"Le govaded," I murmured back, shocked by this sudden expression of gratitude.

We continued on in silence for perhaps a half-hour until Berenglorion spoke again.

"We are ten minutes' ride from the caves now," he hissed in the grayish gloom. As night ended and morning came, the forms of trees eventually became more visible. The forest felt like some other world highly reminiscent of the twilight zone. "Candorien, I want you to know that I am quite glad I didn't kill you in that forest glade when we met. You have proved yourself to be a valuable ally and a true friend."

_High praise coming from the person who can't be trusted to be a friend._ "We haven't won yet, Char. We still have tot stop this murder and save Legolas. But…." I paused, searching for the right words to convey my message. Finally they came. "If we fail or get chucked into prison or die or sommat, I am glad to have known you and to have been your friend." Maybe not entirely true, but there are things one has to say to others before going into a possibly lethal situation.

The ellon nodded and then with a toss of his elegant dark hair urged Elen on. Hasufel followed, and the two horses broke into an all-out run. I took a deep breath to clear my head of useless sentiments and dramatics before stroking my gelding's neck gently. It was quite the time for another chaotic adventure.

Surprisingly we made a much more composed entrance this time. The guards didn't so much as bat an eye when we rode up. They merely opened the huge golden gates for us. I suppose there are advantages to actually traveling with one's escort. We left the horses in the stable and, Changeling at our heels, marched side by side into the throne room.

Upon discovering that Thranduil was not there, we set off for MEKESSG's chambers. She was lying in bed, reading some abomination of a volume bound in pink leather with elaborate, gaudy feathers and sparkles all over it (pink, of course). Seeing it, Char twitched convulsively. I put a comforting arm around him and gave the elf a slight squeeze. Unfortunately, that garish pink … thing was one of the least of our worries.

"Candorien…?" MEKESSG remarked, startled, as she looked up from her book. "Why aren't you two miles away on your way to Gondor?" Her emerald eyes narrowed as she watched the two of us with uncomfortable scrutiny.

"Problems arose, ensued, and we had to turn back so they could be overcome," I said cryptically.

The narrowed gaze became a glare. "Candorien, I am most displeased with you. Explain yourself. Now."

In all of Middle-earth, there had only ever been five people who could make me explain myself: Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas, and my dear departed friends Bob and Boromir. MEKESSG had never been and would never be on that list.

Biting back my sharpest insults, I silently counted to ten in English, Spanish, and Sindarin before allowing myself to answer. "We had pressing business here and a great need to speak with you. If you will try to keep a cool tongue in your head, we will tell you."

Berenglorion sighed and shook his head slightly in exasperation. Perhaps I should have counted to twenty.

MEKESSG's eyes snapped angrily, and she sat up in bed, perfect red lips already forming a pout. "Candy, I don't think you understand how impudent you sound and who exactly you are speaking to."

I cocked my head to one side saucily and gave her a long, hard look. "I do understand, Madam. You think unnecessarily highly of yourself and in your regrettable error expect everyone else to do the same. Well, madam, I am here to tell you that I will _not_ do so. My escort and I have something of great import to tell you, but if you will not _be civil_ and listen, we shall remove ourselves to elsewhere and Devil take the consequences."

Mary Elizabeth Katrina Ellen Sara Susana Greenhow stalked over to me, emerald dressing gown billowing about her perfect ankles. There was such a look of hatred on her face it near to took my breath away.

"Do you have any idea how dangerous of a position you're in?" she demanded angrily.

"Not very, I should think." My eyes twinkled viciously. If MEKESSG thought she had me overawed and beaten, then she had another think coming.

MEKESSG took a step nearer, bringing her face a mere two inches from mine.

"You forget your place, Candy," she hissed, warm breath hitting my nose.

I pulled a grim face and brushed her breath and pit off my skin. Wiping my MEKESSG-contaminated hand on my trousers, I sighed dramatically and prepared for the paraphrased line that was soon to fall from my own lips.

"It's right here," I said at last, "between you and Char."

"Candorien," the elf hissed in my ear so softly that not even Little Miss Perfect could hear, "are you sure it is wise to challenge her?"

I shot the elf a look. His concerns were valid, as I well knew, and yet I felt no urge to yield to them. Something hard and immovable had taken up its place in my heart. I refused to back down, to be reasonable or quiet or the young lady they expected me to be. I'd had enough of being underestimated and patronized. These perfect people had no idea what a stubborn, ornery girl they were about to encounter.

"Candy, take a moment and think about what you're doing."

I smiled as sweetly as a girl possibly could, but my grey eyes remained cold and hard as granite. "Oh, I've thought."

We remained staring at each other for several minutes. MEKESSG was trying to intimidate me. Her green eyes met my gray ones with almost tangible force. I could feel her mind pushing at me, trying to find my weaknesses and faults. I shoved back with m own mind instinctively, not really knowing what I was doing.

Ten minutes (that seemed like ten hours) later, Berenglorion slipped his hands between the two of us and forced us apart.

"For shame, Candorien," he whispered once again into my ear. "Do not let her draw you into conflict. Let us give our message and have done."

"So," I said coldly between deep breaths, "so, will you listen to me, or do Berenglorion and I leave at once?"

"Speak, MEKESSG spat, glaring at me once again.

"On pain of sounding like a broken record, Madam, there is another threat to your life."

"What do you think me? A fool to believe children's tales?" The obnoxious girl smirked at me, and my mind turned to thoughts of bloody work.

"I shall think you a fool and call you one, too, if you continue to act this way," I told her cuttingly. "Have I ever given you cause not to trust me? Has Berenglorion done so? No? Then why must you ceaselessly insult us?"

"I believed you were to be trusted," she sniffed dramatically.

I groaned inwardly. Was I ever like this when I gave emotional speeches?

"And we are." Berenglorion sounded comforting to me, but he seemed to just perturb MEKESSG further. She gave him one look of deepest loathing and burst into furious tears.

"Legolas!" she wailed, stomping across the room and throwing the door open. "Legolas! Come here now!"

Berenglorion and I exchanged looks.

"What is he, a dog to do her bidding?"

"Hush, Candorien. We do not know all that is going on here. We cannot risk making MEKESSG and Legolas any angrier with us than they may already be."

The elf's wise counsel did not seem appealing, and I brushed it aside with hardly a thought.

Legolas rushed into the room and threw his arms about MEKESSG. The two annoying lovebirds proceeded to kiss passionately for several minutes. In my fourteen-year-old heart, I had begun to question the wisdom of love and whether or not I would ever suffer myself to fall in love.

At last the two broke apart.

"Leggie," Mary Elizabeth Katrina Ellen Sara Susana Greenhow simpered. "Leggiekins, they and their friends have conspired to kill me… again."

The stupid besotted elf turned to us, hand on the hilt of his long, white knife. "Guards!" he yelled. "Traitors! Murderers! Guards!"

Ten minutes later, removed of hound, weapons, and dignity, Berenglorion and I found ourselves back in the same cell I'd been governor of when our last little rescue mission had failed. Kicking the bench shards into a little pile in the corner, I eyed the cell's lock. It was obviously new and quite complicated. With a sigh, I sank against the wall and stared at Berenglorion, not really seeing him. How were we going to escape this time?

* * *

**Author's Note: So there you have it, two chapters in one night. Have a fabulous Halloween and don't steal the little kids' candy. If you see a girl in black, gray, and green with a cloak and a giant raisinkateer with a light saber, that's me. The girl, not the raisin. Happy haunting!**

**Authoressinhiding **


	32. Out of Time

**Emily – I only use drugs when they help the story along. Then and only then. Unfortunately, the Mafia and I had a falling out when Erik strangled one of their big time hit men, so I can't hire them. They keep trying to assassinate me for some reason (I blame the franchises), and Erik keeps killing them. Something tells me a business relationship between the two of us would be doomed.**

**Albert – I can neither confirm nor deny any suspicions, guesses, or hypotheses you may have made. You shall simply have to sit back and enjoy the ride – doing so will be well worth it, I promise.**

**Shivera – Absolutely NO killing until the end of the story… and maybe not then.**

**Inwe – You may not study my characters, whether for the good of science or no. I need them.**

**Pippin Baggins – Don't blame him. It's not entirely his fault. A bit of it is, indeed, but not _all_ of it. As you shall soon see.**

**Slayer3 – I know exactly what you want. Hold your horses, mate. There'll be plenty of that… eventually.**

**Disclaimer: If ya got it, flaunt it. I don't got it, and so am not flaunting it.**

**A/N: If you don't like the way this chapter ends, don't kill me. Wait patiently... and in the meantime tell me how much I frustrate you. You know you love me. And now, on to the story!  
**

* * *

Berenglorion cast his eyes about the cell, looking in vain for some means of escape. He paced, running his slender fingers over the walls until he came to me. 

"Candorien, move!"

"No."

"Candorien, please move!" The elf sounded like a famous pirate captain in his desperation.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because there is no hope left. We are all going to die."

Berenglorion took a step closer, pinning me against the wall, arms balanced on either side. The elf looked me cruelly in the eye, fixing me as an owl does its prey.

"Candorien, you cannot give up hope. Come back to your senses, girl! We still have a chance at escape. You need not presume we shall die."

I shot him a baleful look, which was promptly ignored. "You forget, sirrah, that I was governor of this cell less than twenty-four hours ago. It is rather depressing to be back so soon and under even worse conditions." I pushed him away and sat down against the cool plastered stone, wrapping my arms about my knees. "Excuse me if I find it difficult to rally my spirits."

Berenglorion crouched down beside me and touched my shoulder lightly.

"I am sorry, Candorien, but if you want to see your next birthday, then you must leave off this sulking and help. How did you escape last time?"

"Last time I had help, all right?" I grumbled, looking at my shoes.

The elf forced my chin upwards with his fingers so I had to meet his eyes again. "Candorien…"

"All right, all right. My friend came and helped me."

"What friend?"

"Bob," I replied defiantly, my eyes blazing. "Bob the Balrog."

Berenglorion groaned. "Candorien, when are you going to admit there is no Balrog? Be honest now; who helped you?"

"I told you, curse-you-for-breathing-you-slack-jawed-idiot. It was Bob the Balrog."

"Candorien, a teenage mortal cannot befriend a Balrog of Morgoth. It is simply too phenomenal, too farfetched, too impossible."

"You think impossible means anything after what MEKESSG has done to this world? Haven't you seen what strange things happen in her presence? Do you honestly believe I would make up such a story?"

With a weary sigh, the elf settled himself on the floor beside me. Slowly, ponderously, he grudgingly replied, "No."

"Exactly. I don't know why or how or anything, really, about it, but somehow he came and helped me. I picked the lock, but they've got a new one on now, and I'm not that good a lockpick. So…"

"There is, perhaps, nothing to do but wait," Char said softly.

We sat together against that wall for hours. Occasionally one of us would reach out to squeeze the other's hand or to put an arm around them but for the most part we just leaned against each other, thankful even for the smallest comfort provided by a friend's touch. Sometime during the long day and night that followed, an elf came brining a loaf of stale bread and a jug of tepid water. The guard unlocked the cell door and threw the food and drink at us. I caught the jug and hastily took a chug. We gnawed the stony bread in silence, passing the water back and forth. At last driven to utter boredom by the monotonous quiet, I began to pace and sing.

"Sleep tight, little Elfling. Be quiet and still."

"Let dreams ease your worries and enhance your will," Berenglorion sang softly, watching me intently from beneath his dark brows.

"Close your eyes and let the night wrap its arms about you tight."

"While above you the stars in Varda's jeweled sky twinkle brightly and beckon you high."

"Tomorrow the sun will call you to play" –

"And dance on the grass in the joy of the day," the ellon finished, still watching me. "How do you know that song?" he asked brusquely, his impatience obvious.

"Legolas taught it to me. In Gondor. After MEKESSG died." I sighed and stopped pacing for a moment. "Those were some of the best times."

"What was it like?" the elf wondered eagerly. "Riding into battle with the Dúnedain and King Elessar and the noble sons of Elrond."

"Scary," I answered frankly. "It took a while for me to screw myself up enough to go. Part of my bravery came from Hasufel and Changeling. I've never really seen them afraid. It also helped that Legolas, Gimli, and MEKESSG were nearby. Honestly, I'm still not sure how I made it through with only a few cuts and plentiful bruises."

Berenglorion thought over my words a few minutes more before asking another question. "If there was anything about the war that you could have changed – other than MEKESSG – what would it have been?"

This was easy. "Boromir," I replied promptly, pacing again as the tears started burning behind my eyes. "Boromir would still be alive."

"You loved him," Char observed quietly.

"I love everyone. I fell in love with so many people on that trip: Boromir, Elladan, even Legolas to a slight degree…" I shrugged expressively. "Boromir was probably the one closest to me in age and outlook and everything. He was very quick on the uptake and knew to go along with my dramatics. And the look her got when MEKESSG made a fool of herself or was even more overbearing that usual…"

"I am sorry for your loss."

"No matter." I stopped pacing and sat down beside him again. "I have you now."

"How wonderful for me," the elf said dryly, and we continued on in silence.

Not long after this, a half dozen guards, all in mail and fine linen with gilded helms and elaborate swords, decided to make an appearance. The lock clicked as the foremost elf turned the large iron key. As he opened the door with a slight push, the other elves all filed in. Two held my arms cruelly while the remaining three tackled Berenglorion. By the time they succeeded in restraining him, more than one elf was doing their best to dry a bleeding nose or lip. The leader of the six entered the cell then and dropped a bundle onto the floor in front of each of us.

"Change," he ordered grimly, his voice steely cold. "The time for your trial approaches."

To my eternal mortification, I was forced to remove all my clothing save my drawers and breastband – and in front of seven ellyn no less! Face crimson, I hurriedly donned the threadbare white shift from the bundle. Unfortunately I did not move speedily enough. One of the elves noticed my hidden strumpet's revenge and yanked it from my neck . The leader of the elves slapped my face hard enough to draw blood.

"You will be punished for that," he hissed, indicating the dagger. "We will see the Lady knows of it, indeed we shall."

"Leave her alone!" Berenglorion cried, struggling once more to gain his freedom. "Leave Candorien alone! Don't you dare touch her!"

The cold ellon waved a hand, and the three elves who had a hold of Berenglorion rained blows down upon him until he collapsed to the floor, breathing heavily, resentment and hatred in his eyes. The elves bound my hands behind my back, and then it was his turn.

Ignoring his bruises, they quickly stripped him down to his underthings. Unable to help myself, I watched, noticing the bruises, cuts, and scars covering his chest, back, and limbs. The elves jerked a shift similar to mine over his arms and dragged Berenglorion to his feet. After binding him, they shoved the two of us together and marched us from the room.

"Char… are you okay?" I whispered, catching my shoulder under his arm so he wouldn't be dragged along so much.

"Fine. Don't worry, Candorien, we'll make it through all right." I said nothing to this, for in my heart of hearts I didn't really believe him.

Ten minutes later we were marched to a farce of a trail that lasted less time than it takes to assemble an alto saxophone. MEKESSG dramatically accused us of treason, Legolas and Thranduil watched with stony faces, and we were declared guilty. The sentence for our supposed crime was, of course, execution. Berenglorion tensed at this, shoulders going rigid. For the first time, I felt panic rising within me. Our guards took us outside and untied us for a moment, the entire court following behind.

Sore arms freed for a short while, I turned to cross the short distance between myself and Berenglorion. The elf was already at my side. He threw his arms around me, and I buried my face in his shoulder. The sense of surreality I'd had ever since Bob had shown up suddenly vanished, leaving me feeling sick to my stomach. Berenglorion stroked my hair soothingly, but I knew he too thought we were about to die. Once more the ellyn surrounded us, but they did not pull us apart, not just yet.

MEKESSG's angry voice rang out. "Candorien of Earth and Berenglorion of Mirkwood, you have been accused and found guilty of treason, for which the punishment is death. Legolas Thranduilion, as my champion, shall execute the sentence."

Our guards tore us apart then, and four of the elves did their best to restrain Char while the other two renewed their painful grips on me. I went wild, kicking and screaming, biting and clawing, but in the end I had to admit defeat. Legolas strode towards me, his long, keen knife in his hand. There was a madness in his eyes I had never seen before, not even in the heat of his love for MEKESSG.

"Legolas, come on," I pleaded, voice going unnaturally high in my terror. "Legolas, please! Don't do this! It's me, Candorien! The girl who sleeps in and disobeys and falls in love with every gorgeous male she meets? Legolas!"

The elf merely kept advancing. He didn't even show signs of having heard me.

"Legolas!"

The madness in his green eyes bothered me more than the possibility of my own death. What had MEKESSG done to him to make him forget me, forget what we'd been through, forget his own cousin?

"Legolas, please!" My voice was hoarse and rough from tears and emotion. I was shaking so badly that without my captors' support, I would have been collapsed on the ground trembling. As it were, it was all I could do to look my executioner in the eye.

Legolas had reached me now, and he lifted his knife, watching it for a moment, before making the final stroke to cut my throat.

"No!" screamed Berenglorion, but everyone, even me, knew it was too late. I was going to die.


	33. The End Has Come

**Sea Green - No Mafia. They always cause much more trouble than I desire. No. Mafia.**

**Slayer 3 - I heard what you said. I just didn't really listen. Perhaps we do need to work on this communication thingy.**

**Inwe - Whatever happens in my stories, stay out of them. Please?**

**I - I am very sorry it took me so long to update, but I went down to Houston for the weekend, and my mother doesn't generally like me on the computer for long periods of time, and I was just busy in general. But now I am on break, and I give you my most sincere apologies.**

**Dragon'sBlade - Well, I'm glad you're enjoying it. Hope you keep reading/reviewing, whether logged in or no.**

**Disclaimer: If ya got it, flaunt it. As I am not flaunting, obviously I am not getting.**

**A/N: Once again, my deepest apologies for not updating sooner!**

* * *

"Legolas!" I cried in final desperation. "Legolas, listen!" Steeling myself to die, I began to sing the one thing I thought might stay this madness.

"Sleep tight, little Elfling  
Be quiet and still.  
And let the night  
Wrap its arms  
About you tight.  
While above you the stars  
In Varda's jeweled sky  
Twinkle brightly and  
Beckon you high.  
Tomorrow the sun  
Will call you to play  
And dance on the grass  
In the joy of the day," I finished, eyes fixed unhesitantly on Legolas.

The elf stared at me, silver-hafted knife pressed against my throat. Slowly, the delusion and madness faded out of his eyes, and the green ironic clarity I was so used to returned.

"Ca… Ca… Candorien?" he asked wearily. "What the… What in all of Arda am I doing?" Legolas lowered his knife, gazing in horror at the sticky red line it left on my skin. "What's going on?"

"Leggie," ordered a petulant MEKESSG, obviously unaware of what had just occurred. "Leggiekins, kill her. Kill her now. Then _him_."

Legolas glanced around at the entire scene now. I watched as his eyes took in my white shift and guards, the knot of folk surrounding a silent, stony Berenglorion, the court, his glassy-eyed father, and MEKEESG in a sedan chair carried by four handsome elves. Those green cat's-eyes of his filled with tears, and the elf prince stepped forward.

"Let her go," he ordered softly, and when the ellyn did not act quickly enough, he shoved them off me.

"Candorien, are you all right?"

"Berenglorion," I gasped. "He has more need of you than I."

Taking me by the hand, Legolas strode over to the group abusing Berenglorion. Within seconds they were all knocked down to the forest floor nursing various injuries and bruises. Legolas helped his cousin up, and they embraced. Quite angry now, the wood elf shoved Berenglorion and me at one another, cursing fervently in fluent Khudzûl under his breath all the while.

"Candorien?" whispered Berenglorion.

"I'm alive. Come on; we don't want to miss this."

Hand on the hilt of his long knife, Legolas was walking towards MEKESSG, body tense, angular face set in a grim look."

"Oh dear," the elf beside me groaned. "He's about to do something rash."

"Madam, get down from that chair this instant," Legolas said in a voice of still. "We have a great need to discuss several urgent matters."

Mary Elizabeth Katrina Ellen Sara Susan Greenhow had her four youthful bearers lower the sedan chair from their shoulders to the ground. She stepped off it daintily, looking more beautiful that I'd ever seen her, but it was to no avail. Although he shook with rage, when Legolas spoke it was with deadly calm. "Madam, by your arts you have confused almost all of the Wood-elves of Eryn Lasgalen. Once this was accomplished, you used your influence and arts to bring about changes most unethical and grievous to be borne. You disturbed the peace of the kingdom, and but for this girl's" – He gestured to me unnecessarily – "quick-thinking and courage, an elven prince would have stained his hands with the innocent blood of his dear friends. Berenglorion stands before you all very much abused on _her_ orders. Candorien, after twice attempting a noble deed, was sentenced to death, as was her escort appointed by my father the king."

"Leggy," MKEESSG interrupted, but he ignored her.

"Due to these heinous acts of treason, Madam," Legolas continued, "you are banished from this hour forever more from this great forest and all land under King Thranduil's domain on pain of death. Furthermore, if ever I or m companions meet thee abroad, we shall not hesitate to slay thee. Depart now, wretch. I will give you a day to leave this forest. After that, thy head shall be fair game for all as choose to hunt it."

I had never seen Legolas so adamant before. Fire shone in his green eyes, and determination was written in every line of his fair elvish face.

Mary Elizabeth Katrina Ellen Sara Susana Greenhow threw back her elegant head and laughed long and loud, startling us all.

"Fools!" she hissed, glaring at Legolas, Char, and myself with fearsome vehemence. "Are you really so stupid as to think the three of you can stand up to m? Leggie," she went on in an entrancing voice. "Leggie, honey, why do you let these uncouth folk bother you so? Don't listen to them. They're all liars and plotters, anyway. Come be with me, my darling."

Legolas blinked hazily, and for a moment I worried MEKESSG's spell would conquer him once more. My fears proved unfounded, however.

"You have no power over me anymore," he said stiffly and with obvious effort. "Begone, witch."

MEKESSG seemed to swell in size, her emerald eyes glittering furiously.

"You fool," she spat and then whirled on me. "Very well, Candorien, you have triumphed this time. I am vanquished, and so I must flee. Never fear, Candy. I shall be back for you. This isn't over."

With a swirling cloud of emerald smoke, MEKESSG went out wit ha bang. Literally. We all shut your eyes and clapped hands to our ears to shield them from the firecracker noise. When we opened our eyes and lowered our hands, she was gone.

* * *

**Author's Note: Sorry about the short update, but the chapter really just wanted to stop there. A longer update (or two!) should be up maybe later today as AiH desires to atone for her sins. **

**Love,  
Authoressinhiding **


	34. Friendshipbuilding Activities

**Sea Green – Yay! No Mafia! They always ruin things anyways.**

**Cryptic Sarcasm – Because the middle didn't need anymore. I'm giving you a lovely long chapter now to please thee.**

**Slayer3 – For the infinity-eth time, I can't kill her! Not just yet, anyways.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own it. But I am exploiting it.**

* * *

"Legolas, I'm so proud of you!" I ran up to him and gave him a huge hug. "You did it, love," I squealed, squeezing him extremely tight. "You beat her once and for all." 

Legolas gently pried me off him and held me out at arm's length.

"Eru, Candorien. You have grown while my mind was away."

"Gwador, are you all right?" Berenglorion asked worriedly, coming up to embrace his cousin.

"Fine, fine." Legolas brushed his query aside. ' Look, you two," he continued on in a quiet voice, " we will talk later, all right? Meet me in my rooms two hours hence." The elf sighed wearily. "There are many grievous hurts to be mended here."

Casting my eyes about the clearing, I could see his point. All around us, elves were slowly coming back to themselves, blinking dazedly ad looking in horror at the clothes they were wearing. Our former guards shamefacedly came forward and handed Char and myself our other clothes. Ellyth choked until the stays of their corsets were loosened. Thranduil shook himself like a wet dog and then firmly took Legolas by the arm and led him away off in to the forest. T he other elves vanished into the trees or returned inside the caves, grumbling about their clothes and the nonsensical nonsense that had been going on.

Berenglorion hugged me again, and we held each other for what felt like ages, crying freely.

"Valar, Candorien," he choked, nearly squeezing the life out of me. "I was so scared. I thought you were going to die… and there was nothing I could do to save you."

"I know, I know." This time I was the mature one, the calm, soothing one, but I didn't mind. It was quite possibly the happiest moment of my life, if only due to the great relief I felt at being alive and whole and free. I hugged Berenglorion back as tightly as I could. "We're alive, Char. We really made it. MEKESSG is gone. Mirkwood will go back to normal – as normal as it ever is. And we… we shall be friends, friends without worries again. Perhaps you'll finally introduce me to that paramour of yours," I teased.

The elf smiled down at me, then leaned over to kiss me on the forehead. "I would be honored to do so, Lady Candorien, Savior of the forest and nemesis of She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named." The ironic glint in his eyes said plainly he was teasing me back, so I merely grinned up at him, completely at ease. All was right in my world.

* * *

Legolas was waiting for us in his rooms when we finally made our way there. Gazing out the window, he didn't even look up as we entered. Char and I stood there for several minutes until he turned around to regale us with his sorrowful green eyes. 

"Much has been amiss in this land," the elf began softly. "Things will be righted as soon as may be, but it will take some time. Candorien, I never got the chance to ask you and have my curiosity satisfied: what are you doing here? What happened when you got home?" He cleared a spot on the pallet beneath the window and gestured for me to sit.

As I did so, I gave the room a quick once over. A few texts were piled haphazardly together beneath one of the large windows that took up nearly the entire wall, of which the room had three (windows, not walls). Weapons lay against the single windowless wall, and a small chest on the other side of the room must have held clothes. Other than that, the room was sparsely furnished with a deep burgundy wool rug on the dark stone floor and a few cushions spread around it. It was a relaxed, simple room, but it still possessed an unlived-in look.

"Well, Legolas, when I took Hasufel for a ride that day, I was quite reckless. We were on a hairpin turn… I took a tumble and woke up in my world's equivalent of the Houses of Healing. Turned out I'd been in a coma – unconscious sleep – for the last six months." I laughed bitterly, staring at a spot on the cool brown walls so I didn't have to see the looks of pity on my friends' faces. I hadn't accepted pity from my friends on Earth, and I was not about to take it form Legolas and Berenglorion. "Then followed the toughest summer I've ever known. Working eight hours a day to catch up in school, then spending my evenings with my bow and sword. Fencing and shooting and swimming 'til my muscles screamed. I ran and jumped and still failed to learn how to do a cartwheel. Last day before school began… I somehow stepped back into Middle-earth. Not two hours later Berenglorion found me. And I've been trying to figure out what to do ever since."

"You are young!" Berenglorion exclaimed. "Still in school? How long do your schools last?"

I shot the ellon a nasty not-helping look, but in the end I had to answer, "Until we are seventeen or eighteen."

"And you are…?"

"Fourteen, milord."

"A babe in arms." Berenglorion completely missed the irony in my voice. "Fourteen, Legolas, and look what she has done. Perhaps her world is better to its children."

"I think not." I could sense Legolas's keen, thoughtful eyes on me, knew he was watching me intently. "Rather, my dear cousin, perhaps her world is too cruel to its children. Perhaps they never really have a childhood. Oh, yes, Candorien is young, gwador, quite young. But not a child anymore, methinks."

I looked up now and met his gaze, but a moment later I had to look away.

"No," murmured Legolas ponderously, "a child no longer. Our world has done this to you, I fear."

"I would not have it any other way," I told him fiercely. "Rather to have lost my innocence and childhood than to live an ignorant child and never to have met you lot. Knowing the consequences, I would still go on the Quest, willingly this time."

"Legolas, she may not be a child, but she is still very young, and we her guardians. Do you desire to send her to Gondor, as the witch did?" Char asked, cool as a cucumber.

Legolas shook his head, still watching me. "No, Berenglorion. I doubt very much that Candorien will be with us for long, though I would be honored if she were. NO, she has to go home – of that I am certain. Brave and smart she may be, but not yet grown. Candorien, what are your thoughts on the matter?"

"I don't want to leave you lot, especially not now," I mumbled, trying hard to keep all emotion out of my voice. "But I don't believe I'm meant to stay in Middle-earth forever. AT least, at least not yet."

The two elves were nodding. Honestly, I had absolutely no wish to leave Middle-earth. I felt happiest here, able to relax and be my sarcastic self with no worries. But I was equally true that I could not stay forever. My family on Earth needed me, and for good or ill Earth was home. I had a duty to it and its people (those who knew me, at any rate). Besides, I wasn't quite ready yet for another six-month coma.

"Let us revel in what time we have," Legolas was saying to Berenglorion. "Show Candorien Mirkwood as it really is – our home."

Char nodded, rising.

The two ellyn turned to me and held out their hands. "Come with us, Candorien. Come see our world."

Throughout the rest of that afternoon, I learned more things than I could ever remember. We went riding, hunting, shooting. We swam in the forest river and swapped tales high in the boughs of trees. Legolas showed me tricks on horseback and taught me things on my flute that I had never imagined were possible. Berenglorion explained what things were safe to eat in the forest and helped me relearn how to fall.

By the time we returned to the caves, everything hurt, even muscles I had considered to be in shape. The cousins were eagerly making plans for the night and next day, discussing the gargantuan lists of what Candorien "Must See" and "Must Learn". Hasufel and I were drowsy and exhausted. It had been a long, tiresome day. If those elves mentioned one more physical stunt or stretching exercise, I was going to slap them. HARD.

Legolas and Berenglorion dragged me to the dining hall I had been shown my first night. This time, however, after dinner and a mere hour's worth of music and tales, they bowed and gave their excuses.

So it was I found myself back on horseback in the middle of the night, doing my best to keep up with the galloping elves on either side of me.

"Come on, Candorien," Char called back to me, laughing wildly. "Catch up with us."

"Hasufel," I muttered between clenched teeth, standing in the stirrups to relieve my cramped muscles. "Hasufel, let 'er buck."

The gelding continued at his easy canter.

Grinding my teeth, I rolled my eyes. "Noro lim, Hasufel, noro lim."

This time, the great grey horse sprang away, gradually shoving his nose through the gap between the elves' horses.

_Come on, boy, _I thought, pushing my body's protest aside and reveling in the wind on my face. _Let's show these prissy ancient gentlemen what young folk can do._

As if he could read my mind, Hasufel tossed his noble head and let out a thunderous neigh that seemed to laugh in death's face. The gelding reared and surged forward, slapping me in the face with his long, coarse mane.

"Oho, so the mortal thinks she can win, does she?" Legolas threw back his head and belted out a raucous drinking song so coarse and rude I doubt he could have learned it anywhere but the Gondorian army.

Berenglorion wrinkled his nose in distaste and elbowed his friend. "Please, not in front of the lady."

At this point I of course had to prove I was no lady, so out of me mouth came hobbit drinking songs and a rather dirty little ditty about dwarves learned from Gimli. By the time I finished, the Ellyn shot me strange looks.

"I'm glad you didn't trot out that little beauty earlier tonight," commented Legolas, sounding somewhat faint.

"It was certainly educational," added Berenglorion, avoiding my eyes.

"Just be glad that was the watered-down version," I told them merrily. "Besides, this is your own fault. If you wouldn't constantly insist on having me do athletic things and on riding out this late after such a day as I've had…. Where are we going, anyways?" The elves groaned.

We spent the night in that same old familiar clearing with its safe, comfortable cave. After picketing the horses, we laid blankest out on the cool forest floor and stretched out. The elves lent me their cloaks, making jokes about humans all the while. Sometime after their tenth kick to the shins, they stopped. We stayed awake nearly the entire night. Legolas and Berenglorion pointed out the constellations of Middle-earth, explaining which stars belonged together and what their names signified. When I began to drift off, the two ellyn changed the conversation topic and swapped tales of old times, occasionally bursting into song, soft ballads in their elvish tongue that left me feeling warm and secure. Unable to resist the pull of dreaming any longer, I closed my eyes and slept.

The next day, somehow my friends woke me up before dawn and forced me to watch a Mirkwood sunrise. It was nice, but I still felt worn out form the day before and so all the overly happy elves could get out of me were grunts and head shakes. I was bundled back into the saddle for the ride back to the caves. At this point, neither Hasufel nor I was much in the mood for peppiness; so for our part we maintained a surly silence most of the way.

"Five minutes left, Candorien," Legolas announced at length, glancing back at my surly face. "Do you think you can stay in the saddle that much longer?"

"Only if you let me sleep once we get there," I growled.

The elves laughed. My scowl deepened. Some teenagers can live on no sleep and be happy all the day long. Not me. I have to get my rest, or I am crabby, grumpy, and plain awful to be around.

While I was pondering the affects of not enough sleep and other weighty matters, something menacing growled from the shadows of the trees. Elen and Arod, ridden by elves, danced nervously but behaved. Hasufel, however, seeing the glowing eyes, bolted. He took off at a dead run through the trees.

"Whoa, boy!" I screamed, but the horse ignored me. We were heading away from the caves, Hasufel galloping as fast as he could. His coat glistened with sweat. White foam blossomed from his mouth. His dark eyes rolled wildly. Terrified beyond reason, I clenched the reins with my sore fingers.

Suddenly a tree limb loomed up ahead in the gloom. I ducked and dodged, then sighed in relief. In that instant my eyes were closed, the gelding, wild with terror, ran beneath the branches of another tree. Something hit my head with a loud _crack!_ and I fell into darkness

* * *

**A/N: Hope you like the new ending better. Thanks to some good criticism from some great readers (Anonymist, Slayer3, and MysticChaos in particular), I decided to change this chapter a good deal. It didn't flow, and it left canon far more than my usual deviations, which in the end I am not willing to do.****   
**


	35. Epilogue

"Honey, Honey, wake up." Someone was gently shaking my shoulder, trying to get me awake.

My body ached from all the tortures Legolas and Berenglorion had been putting me through. All I wanted to do was sleep for eternity. Something deep inside, however, wouldn't let me. And then I remembered what had happened.

"Hasufel!" I cried out, jackknifing to a sitting position and then exploding from whatever bed I had been in. "Hasufel! Valar, Legolas, Char, Torwaith! How's Hasufel?"

Just then I became aware of my surroundings. People sat all around the severe hospital room, jaws dropping at my sudden display of liveliness. Another infernal IV had been attached to my arm, and the idiots had put me into a hospital gown.

"Out," I ordered hoarsely, giving my various relatives, associates, and nurses the Look, stolen from Legolas and MEKESSG. "Out. NOW!"

Everyone hurriedly got up and filed from the room, fleeing the wrath of an IV-growing, hospital gown-clad teenage girl. I slammed the door shut behind them and locked it, then ripped the IV out. This time I didn't even grit my teeth against the pain. My insides hurt far worse than a bit of ripped tape and removed plastic tube ever could.

Repeating my performance a few months ago, I stalked into the bathroom after having made a search for my clothes. Luckily, they had learned from the last time. I easily slipped into the jeans, t-shirt, and sneakers I'd found in one of the cabinets, once again surprised by what an excursion in Middle-earth did to my body. I stared at myself in the mirror for a moment, then burst into tears, cursing in my own mixture of Sindarin, Khudzûl, and Westron. At last I could take the pain no longer. With a cry of wild, savage grief, I ran to the window and forced it open. The fools had given me a room on the first floor. With a speed and agility I hadn't known I possessed, I was out the window and dropping to the ground. Unaware of my surroundings, I took off running, sneakers pounding on the wet grass, headed for a copse of trees on the horizon.

Moving as fast as I could, it took a mere five minutes to reach the copse. Once there, I collapsed to the ground and crawled miserably to huddle under the branches of a tall, stately oak, tears streaming down my face. I sat there for hours, lost in my heart's agony and grief. Black, starry night turned to gray; false dawn was finally succeeded by the real thing. Sometime during the night, I heard shouts and calls, but no one ever found me. Had Legolas or Char been there, my hideout would have lasted all of about a minute, but that wry thought just brought on more pain.

A soft fuzzy touch, like the skin of a peach, eventually brought me back to myself. Raising my tear-streaked face from my knees, I looked up to see a tall grey horse standing above me, nudging my head with his whiskery muzzle. A soft gasp escaped my lips, and I catapulted to my feet, throwing my arms around the gelding's neck.

"Hasufel… oh, Hasufel! How are you here?"

Hasufel nudged me playfully and danced in place, gesturing with his head for me to mount up. M tack was all in place, saddlebags full of my old things. Changeling gazed up at me with those quick brown eyes from her platform. With a slight grin, I pulled a change of clothes and my riding boots from one of the leather pouches and vanished into the trees to change.

It was forty-five miles from the city where the hospital was located to my home. Forty-five miles of highway, cars, and pastures. A dangerous journey on bike or foot, perhaps even more so on horse. Hasufel had never been around one car before, let alone hundreds. It was a risky thing to do, and I knew it, but what other choice was there? My Voice of Reason was urging me to return to the hospital, but as usual it went unnoticed.

"Hasufel," I began sturdily, lacing up my boots and tying my own mane back. "Hasufel, we have a job, a journey, a quest… thing." Now came the weapons: my sword's familiar weight at my waist along with the dagger; bow, quiver, and flute all slung over my back; strumpet's revenge carefully tucked under my shirt. Slinging my Lorien cloak over my shoulders, I fastened it thoughtfully. "This will test every bit of us… our strength, endurance, and wit. All I know, and all your heart. Can we do it, kid?" I asked intently, my eyes locked with his intelligent brown ones, as if by the ferocity of my gaze I could force him to understand.

Hasufel whuffed comfortingly in my face, as if to say "We can do it, Candorien. We will conquer."

"Changeling, ready?"

My rangy hound yipped excitedly.

"Okay, then. Let's do this." Grinning now my friends were here, I swung up into the saddle and checked once more to make sure everything was secure. Full of fire and emotion and life fit to burst, I stood in the stirrups, all grief pushed far away. "Let 'er buck, Hasufel! Let 'er buck!"

The gelding reared, a great grey shadow against the rising sun, and pawed the air, neighing his triumph to the world, far wilder than anything Earth was made for. No Mearas, mayhap, but of exceedingly noble heritage. Too beautiful and terrible for this world. Whether he knew it or not, the magnificent horse held my heart in his keeping.

Face buried in his mane, I let out my own war scream, as full of fight as Hasufel. Tossing his noble head, the gelding neighed once more, then set off at a full run in the direction I pointed him.

That ride was the hardest I'd ever had to make in my world or Middle-earth, and I will never forget it as long as I live. All day long at a relentless pace under the cruel September sun. It was not yet quite fall; the countryside was incredibly dry and dusty. The entire morning consisted of nerve-wracking negotiating our way along roads and highways. Clad from head to toe in elven fashions, a map spread wide open on my knee (purchased in exchange for a picture at the first gas station we'd come to), I knew Hasufel, Changeling, and I present quite a sight. The gelding did surprisingly well after jumping at the first few cars.

Moving at no more than a fast walk, we made little more than ten miles in five hours. At last fed up with the snail's pace, I directed Hasufel off into the side streets, where we made better time. Eventually, but not soon enough for my happiness, we came to a point where the highway wound its way through green fields and pastures. Spotting them, my gelding gave a whicker full of longing. For as long as we could, the three of us galloped through the pastures, tackling the shorter, clearer hills and valleys, even fording the shallow streams. So curious and full of excitement was Hasufel that he hardly seemed to notice my weight.

That night, we camped about twenty miles from home after having crossed a large, scary bridge (to me, anyways). I picketed Hasufel and dug some cram out of my saddlebags. The downside of my world – one of the many downsides, actually – was the lack of wildlife. I wasn't about to cause more trouble by killing – or scaring half to death – what little game there was.

I slept curled up next to my horse, one hand on the hilt of my sword, the other clenched around my strumpet's revenge. My dreams were filled with elves and laughter in the dark dales of a great forest. I woke with the salty tracks of tears all down my cheeks. Sniffling, I rose, wiped the pain away, and tacked up. Minutes later, I was back in the saddle, Hasufel doggedly plodding ahead, the rising sun at our backs once more.

Around midday, we reached the outskirts of my town. Gathering all my courage, I led Hasufel into a grove of trees and pulled the finest outfit possible from the saddlebags. Once I had changed and fixed my hair, even the desperation and hopelessness in my face were masked by color. The deep evergreen tunic and sky blue undershirt were not entirely what the elves would have put together, but it fit me, along with the russet trousers and twilight-grey cloak. My hair hung loose about my face, and my weapons were in the best fettle. With a sigh, I remounted and guided Hasufel back to the road, standing in the stirrups once more. It was time to go home, and I was going to do so with style.

Laughing, fey and free, I drew my sword and urged Hasufel to a gallop, a war-song of Rohan springing unbidden from my lips.

This time, the school I had missed – merely a few weeks – was easily caught up. I was able to participate in our marching show. I persuaded my parents to accept my excuse for showing up at the house with a warhorse and managed to get them to let me keep Hasufel at a nearby boarding stable. From then on, I spent a good deal of time with him, remembering days under a younger sun in a greener world. MEKESSG's last words remained with me, though, and often echoed in my ears. In my heart of hearts I knew it wasn't over. She _would _come back. But once again, my friends, that is another story.

* * *

**A/N: Alas, my dear readers, all things must end. And so this story has. Grieve not overmuch, for the third and (perhaps) final installment in the saga of Candorien shall be posted soon. As is customary with this authoress, a little preview shall follow:**

_The young woman sighed deeply. One hand released its tight hold on her sword hilt, relieved as always to be free of contact with the blasted weapon. The other stroked the neck of her great grey mount, trembling as it did so._

_"I can't resist any longer," she murmured, turning to look at her companion with pained sea-grey eyes. "The geas is too strong, Tor."_

_Her friend merely raised one elegant dark brow. "Do you really believe that?"_

_"I don't know what to believe anymore," she said wearily. "Once... I thought I could conquer this easily. Now..."_

_"Now you are worn down by its constant attack. That is of course their purpose. Hold out just a little longer, I beg."_

_"I can't, Tor, I can't." And with that, the young woman burst into tears._

_ Her companion kneed his horse over to her and put an arm around the crying figure. "Then let us leave this cursed place, at least."_

_She drew herself up in the saddle and left off sobbing. Deftly her fingers sketched arcane symbols in the air before them. The couple and their mounts vanished, leaving only the mist and jagged sea coast to lament them._


End file.
